


Invasion

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-07
Updated: 2005-03-22
Packaged: 2018-12-27 11:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Lindsay's cousin, Justin, comes to Pittsburgh to watch the children while she and Melanie try to work out their problems.  Please review.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

This story, so far, is pretty heavy in dialogue. I don't tend to write angst as much as I do personal problems/growth and the inner-workings of relationships. I hope you guys like it.

* * *

The design, lighting, and music of Babylon is just like all the other gay dance clubs Justin’s been to. When he asked his cousin where a young gay boy could get some action, she was quick to answer with “Babylon.” The line to get in was crazy and Justin wondered if it was truly worth the wait. But since he hasn’t had sex in at least four days, he was determined. 

 

_Nothing impressive_ , Justin thinks to himself upon entering Babylon. That was until he lays his eyes on him. A god among a rank of men. Sex personified. A walking orgasm. Just what the doctor ordered. And many other clichéd phrases leap into Justin’s mind when he sees him. 

 

Justin’s been watching him for the past two hours, still nursing the same beer he bought when he first got there. It’s flat and warm now, but he pays it no heed. 

 

The guy has danced with a dozen or so men, making a trip on three separate occasions to the back room. _Finally. Someone who’d be able to keep up with me_. When it comes to sex, Justin isn’t humble. Three relationships and one abusive boyfriend later, Justin needs no humility. It’s all about sex. And this guy... Damn. This guy is like... Yum.

 

Justin’s always a little incoherent when he becomes attracted to someone. Like, strongly attracted. Like, fuck me from behind, flip me over, and do it again attracted. Like, I’m going to eat you up and swallow you down attracted. Like--

 

“His name’s Brian Kinney and he doesn’t go for blond twinks like yourself,” a petulant voice interrupts Justin’s mind ramblings.

 

Mind ramblings. That’s what Daphne called them when they were in junior high and he’d just blank out in the middle of a conversation. Sometimes his mind is too loud and he has to ignore everything else and listen to it, otherwise it just won’t shut up. It’s gotten better with age.

 

Justin looks into the brown eyes of a frowning man. _Not bad_ , Justin muses, eyeing the man up and down. Pittsburgh, by far, has the hottest men.

 

“And I don’t go for blond twinks either,” the man huffs, but blushes slightly under Justin’s gaze.

 

Nodding toward the muscular man who’s arm is draped over his new friend, Justin smiles. “No. I see you have a hunk of your own. Don’t worry. I’m just looking.” His gaze wanders back to... Brian? Was that his name? “Besides, aren’t twinks like twenty-one, at the oldest?”

 

The brown-eyed man’s frown grows. “So?”

 

“So, I’m twenty-five. Well beyond twink, I hope.”

 

“You sure don’t dress it.”

 

And that’s how their relationship begins. A little more whiny than Justin prefers, there’s something about Michael that’s ultimately likable. 

 

Justin learns that Brian Kinney is, as quoted by Ben, “The Stud of Liberty Avenue.” 

 

“And a nonstop, glorified sex-machine,” another man saddles up to the bar. Justin’s eyes widen at the man’s attire. Pink and orange? Justin’s got to give the guy some props, though, because _he_ wouldn’t be seen dead in something that disgustingly bright.

 

“I was just looking,” Justin reemphasizes. Brian heads to the back room yet again. “I’m normally into smaller guys. Artsy types. Not... him.”

 

They all just shake their heads at Justin’s obvious desire. 

 

“Look, kid,” Michael begins. Justin’s youthful appearance is already an inside joke. “Don’t mess around with Brian. He’s probably a great fuck and all--”

 

Justin raises an eyebrow--a motion that immediately reminds the others of Brian. “Probably?”

 

Shrugging, Michael replies, “I wouldn't know.”

 

“But I do. And he is. A great fuck,” Ben offers, wrapping his arms around Michael’s waist from behind and pulling him closer. He begins to grind his hips slowly. “But you seem like a nice kid. You should stay away from him.”

 

“Yeah,” Michael’s eyes glaze over as Ben continues his hip jutting. “It’s easy to fall in love with Brian Kinney. It’s not as easy to fall out.”

 

“And it’s even harder to get him to like you. And impossible to get him to love you,” Emmett finishes, sipping his very blue drink. He winks at Justin.

 

“Do I have ‘romantic’ tattooed on my forehead or something?” Justin asks, furrowing his brows together. “I’m not looking for a relationship. Just a fuck.”

 

They shake their heads. Michael mutters something like “kids these days” and they all fall into a comfortable silence.

 

Justin turns to watch Brian again. The trick in front of Brian is trying desperately to keep his attention. Brian’s eyes lift up, off the trick’s ass, and he gazes around the room with practiced boredom. For a split second, Brian eyes Justin. But he suddenly grabs the trick and is dragging him out the door. Justin isn’t sure if they really made eye contact, or if it was just wishful thinking. 

 

Slowly, his new friends drift away too, eventually leaving him alone with a nasty tasting beer and a feeling reminiscent to disappointment. 

 

A somewhat attractive redhead glides over to Justin and after some persuasion and a couple shots of whiskey later, is able to convince Justin for a trip to Babylon’s notorious back room.

 

He isn’t bad, either. 

 

Justin thinks he’s going to like Pittsburgh.

 

 

Brian ambles into the diner the next morning, a dark pair of sunglasses shading his bloodshot eyes from the world. The rest of the gang have been there for almost half an hour, waiting patiently for the last member to make his appearance. They had planned on meeting an hour earlier, but from experience know to always arrive a half an hour late, accepting that Brian will never show up on time.

 

“Glad you could make it, your majesty,” Ted grumbles.

 

Sliding into the booth next to him, Brian grins brightly, “Who said you had to wait? The only reason I can get away acting like a king,” Brian steals Ted’s coffee, gulping it down quickly, reveling in the burn, “Is because you let me.” He hands Ted his cup back and reaches for the one Debbie just set down for him.

 

The rest of the them roll their eyes, but there’s some truth in Brian’s statement, so they offer no witty retort.

 

“Have a good time last night, oh great one?” Emmett smirks, cutting into his newly arrived pancakes.

 

“Same as the night before, I guess. It’s always the same.” Brian orders some toast and, to everyone’s surprise, some eggs. “It’s getting boring,” Brian admits as he leans back and stretches his arms toward the ceiling. They all can’t help but stare as Brian’s skin and muscles shift with his new position. Letting his arms fall back to his lap, Brian smiles. “It’s always so... I don’t know... It’s like, nothing new. I can time everything before I get there. Like I know what’s gonna happen. Arrive at such and such time, get such drink, such and such trick will try, yet again, to get me to fuck them, dance, fuck, dance, fuck, drink...” Brian trails off. “I just want something different for once.”

 

They sit in amazed silence until Emmett says, “It’s ‘cause you’re getting ol--” But upon seeing Brian’s eyebrows raise, he retracts his statement and declares, “You’re finally growing up.”

 

Brian snorts, “Gee whiz. Thanks, dad.” He looks around the booth. “Where are the girls?”

 

“They want us to meet them at their place after breakfast. They have something they want to talk to us about.”

 

Their breakfast runs smoother than usual because Brian is in a particularly good mood. Silently, they hope that whatever Melanie and Lindsay have to tell them won't ruin Brian's good mood. They all reap from the benefits of a happy Brian.


	2. Invasion

They’re all more than a little surprised when Justin answers the door.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Boy Wonder?” Michael asks, glancing at his equally confused boyfriend.

 

“Waiting for you, grandpa.” Justin stuns them with a glorifyingly beautiful smile. “I’m Lindsay’s cousin.”

 

Justin tries everything not to stare at Brian. Even in his casual Sunday clothes, Brian still looks immensely edible.

 

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing!” Debbie squeals, pushing past Michael and Ben to yank Justin into a terrifying hug. “I’m-a call you Sunshine, Sunshine. ‘Cause you are just too cute for words.” She pulls back, pinches his cheeks and squeals again. For a split second, Justin wonders if this will be the way he’s to die: squeezed to death by an overzealous fag hag.

 

“Let him go, Deb. You wanna kill him?” Brian reaches over and gently unwraps Justin from Debbie’s death-grip. “I’m Brian, Sunshine. I see you’ve met Mikey and Ben. The others can introduce themselves.” He’s all smiles today. A rarity for Brian, but Justin doesn’t know this. Immediately, he’s put at ease. 

 

“You’re so kind, Brian,” Ted rolls his eyes and holds out his hand. “I’m Ted.”

 

Quick introductions and then they are ushered into the house. The girls are waiting nervously in the living room.

 

Brian breaks the thick silence. “What the fuck’s going on?”

 

Glaring at him momentarily, Lindsay clears her throat. “Um. I know most of you guys don’t know this, but Mel and I have been dealing with some... shit...”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Melanie mumbles, shifting further away from Lindsay. 

 

“We’re trying to work things out, but it isn’t easy with the kids and work and... stuff... So, uh, we’re gonna go on a vacation... alone.”

 

“Ditching the kids for a fuck-fest, stellar parenting skills, maw and mommy.” Brian’s voice drips with sarcasm.

 

“Fuck you, Brian. You know what we’ve been going through--” Lindsay’s voice cracks.

 

“You knew about this shit from the beginning. If you only tried to help, nothing would’ve happened.”

 

“Ah, I see we’re using the old blame game today. Fabulous. You could’ve warned me and I would’ve brought my raincoat. You guys tend to spit when you ream me out for shit I’ve never had any control over.”

 

Justin eyes Brian and it’s pretty obvious that he’s hurt. At least to Justin; the rest of the room hushes Brian with obscenities and smacks. 

 

“I agree with Brian, Mel. I mean, whatever happened is between you and Lindsay.” Justin surprises himself when he says this. He refuses to meet Brian’s interested gaze. “Just tell them what your plans are and get to it. I’m sure they have better stuff to do.”

 

Instead of biting Justin’s head off, Melanie sighs and says, “Look. We’re not running away from being parents, even though that’s what some people want to believe.” She casts an angry glare at Brian before continuing. “We’re trying to save our marriage and we can’t do that if we’re... distracted.”

 

Justin sees Brian bite his lips and huff silently to himself. 

 

_Interesting_ , Justin thinks. 

 

“We love our kids. And we’re doing this for them.”

 

“Doing what, exactly?” Ben asks, his hand rubbing Michael’s knee in comfort.

 

“We’re going away for a little while.”

 

“How long?” Brian’s voice is strong.

 

“As long as it takes.”

 

“Days? Weeks? Months? And who’s going to look after the kids? Mikey and Ben sure as hell can’t. And I can’t even see that I’m properly fed, let alone two babies--” Brian stops himself, his breathing labored.

 

_Very interesting_. Justin’s studying Brian carefully. He wonders if any of Brian’s friends really know who Brian is. Because the man he sees before him is nothing like the man they all described.

 

“Brian,” Lindsay starts. “We know you’re concerned. But that’s why Justin’s here. He’s going to watch the kids. He’s going to stay here while we go and try to keep our family together. It’s not as bad as you think. We need to do this.”

 

“Don’t you have school or something?” Brian addresses Justin, eyeing the blond wearily.

 

“No. I graduated a couple years ago. I’m an artist. I don’t really... do anything. I only work when I’m inspired...” Justin stops himself before he lectures the man on the fine principles of being an artist.

 

“You’ve ever taken care of a baby?” Michael asks, feeling the same sort of anxiety that Brian is.

 

“Yes. My little sister. And my friend, Daphne, her kid. I’m the godfather. My neighbors in L.A. had a three month old son I used to baby-sit on a regular basis. It’s no problem.”

 

Lindsay smiles at her cousin. “And we trust Justin.”

 

“Explicably.”

 

The rest of the conversation moves smoothly. Brian keeps his mouth shut and instead, stares out the window. While the others are distracted with the girl’s vacation plans, he sneaks out of the back door and stands next to the swing set in order to smoke a cigarette. 

 

Justin goes to join him. They nod at each other and smoke in silence. 

 

“So, you’re just going to go along with this bullshit?” Brian asks, startling Justin. 

 

“I think it’s important they try to work this out.”

 

Brian takes off his sunglasses and pushes them into a pocket in the back of his jeans. “Right.”

 

“What? You don’t think they should work this out? You don’t want your kid to have a stable home?” Justin knows he sounds accusatory, but he’s just curious. Brian’s more complicated than anyone told him.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Justin lights another cigarette, putting out his arm to stop Brian from storming off. “I didn’t mean it like that. Have another smoke with me. I was just wondering why you’re so against this.”

 

Sighing, Brian takes one of Justin’s cigarettes, even though he has a whole pack of him own. “You really think they’ll work this out? That going away will fix this?”

 

Justin nods slowly. “Well, I did...”

 

“Well, you don’t know shit. Because it isn’t going to help. It’s not that Lindsay cheated on Melanie. You know that’s not why Mel’s mad, right?”

 

Justin stops, the cigarette halfway to his mouth. “Oh. I didn’t know Linds cheated on Mel...”

 

Brian waves him off. “She did. And that would’ve been okay... Well, no. It probably wouldn’t have been okay, but Melanie’s also done her share of fucking up. It’s that Lindsay fucked a guy. And that’s something Melanie will never get over. It will always nag her. It will always sit in the back of her mind as she anxiously waits for the day that Lindsay _leaves_ her for dick. So, going off on some little fantasy lesbian love retreat isn’t going to do shit. They’re still going to have to come home to the stress of having two children, high maintenance jobs, and insecure feelings. It’s gonna ultimately rip them apart.” 

 

Justin stares at Brian, mouth open in wonder. “Are you a psychologist?”

 

Brian’s laughter is emphasized with a puff of smoke. “God, no. I hate doctors. I work in advertising.”

 

“Oh. You seem so... knowledgeable, I guess. I was just wondering.”

 

“It’s ‘cause I know them.”

 

Brian watches as Justin makes smoke rings. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I never could, though.” He shows Justin his attempts at smoke rings. It’s just one huge spout of gray smoke.

 

“Yeah. You suck.”

 

Brian flips him off and lights another cigarette. “Are you famous?”

 

“Huh? What?”

 

“You’re an artist. So, are you famous?”

 

“Oh.” Justin blushes slightly, making Brian grin. “I... My work sells.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

Justin nods and turns a little redder. He’s comfortable around Brian, but he hates talking about his art.

 

“Lindsay used to draw.”

 

“Yeah. I know. She was pretty good.”

 

“Not great, though.”

 

Justin bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. “No. Not really. Her portraits are okay.”

 

“She can’t do form very well, though. And her abstract work...” Brian trails off into a mock shudder. “Scary.”

 

“Yeah. She resented me for a while. But I think she’s over that. ‘Cause of Mel. I get along really well with Melanie.”

 

“Wow. One in a billion.”

 

“Yeah. She’s a bitch. But I like her. She’s... strong.”

 

Shrugging, Brian flicks some ash. They watch it hit the grass. 

 

“I saw you at Babylon last night,” Brian admits, crushing newly fallen ash with his boot. “You were all buddy-buddy with Mikey and them.”

 

“Yeah. They’re pretty cool.” Justin can’t stop his heart from pounding quickly in his chest at Brian’s admission. 

 

“You fuck anyone?”

 

“Last night?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah. Some redhead. He was pretty good.” 

 

Brian nods and looks around Justin, to the house. “They’re beckoning us, Sunshine. We’d better go back.” Justin trails behind Brian, following him closely.

 

“You two have fun?” Emmett asks, eyebrows wagging a little.

 

“’Twas brilliant. Had a couple smokes. Talked about the weather.” Brian leans over to pick up Gus. “Hey there, Sonny Boy. Missed you.” The child laughs and licks Brian’s face. “You’re a natural.” He chuckles and gives Gus to Justin, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Here. You’re gonna need the practice. He’s a handful.”

 

“He’s not that bad,” Lindsay admonishes, while at the same time Melanie says, “He gets it from his father.” They look at each other with quick smiles and Justin wonders if Brian is correct in his assumption that they will eventually break up. 

 

He’s going to hope for the best. 

 

Emmett slinks up next to Justin. “So, what do you think?”

 

“What do I think about what?”

 

Emmett motions to Brian with a curt nod. 

 

“Oh. Him. He’s... complicated. I like him. He’s nice.”

 

“Nice? Brian Kinney?” 

 

Shrugging, Justin watches as Brian jokes around with Michael and Ben. He thinks that maybe they could be good friends. 

 

Even though he still desperately wants to fuck Brian.


	3. Invasion

Brian gets a call from Justin at three on Wednesday morning. It’s a frantic phone call and Brian jolts up in bed, effectively knocking the phone of its perch and kicking his trick awake. 

 

“Get the fuck out of my home,” Brian says into the phone and for a moment, Justin is confused. “Not you,” Brian explains, confusing the situation even more. “Him. Yeah. You. Go. Yeah? Fuck you, too. I would’ve kicked you out sooner if I didn’t fall asleep. Bye.” There’s a slight pause, then Brian asks Justin, “Who’s dying?”

 

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t stop crying and I can’t get a hold of Michael or Ben or Debbie. And Gus is being all fussy and keeps screaming for you and I can’t calm him down and the girl’s cell phone is unavailable--”

 

“Justin?” Brian hears deep breathing and loud wailing in the background. And noises that sound suspiciously like a hospital. “Where are you?”

 

“At the hospital. Look... I don’t... I don’t do well in hospitals. I need you... to come and take over before I freak out and have a panic attack or something.”

 

Brian’s already out the door before Justin can finish. He arrives at the hospital ten minutes later. Justin is visibly shaken and Gus is sitting, crying, on the chair next to him. 

 

“Hey.” Brian crouches in front of Justin, putting a hand gently on his thigh. “You okay?”

 

Justin recoils from Brian’s touch, his eyes fearful for a moment, but then he registers that it’s Brian and he relaxes, slightly. “Hey. She’s really sick. An ear infection or something. Gus needs to sleep. Thank God the girls called the kids’ doctor before they left. Otherwise, I doubt they would’ve taken her.”

 

“Are _you_ okay?” Brian presses again.

 

Justin nods, but says, “Not really. I’ve had some bad hospital experiences and would rather not be here.”

 

Brian moves to sit next to Justin, gathering Gus in his arms. The child promptly falls asleep. “He’s exhausted.”

 

“Yeah. I woke him up. He was sleeping so peacefully. The past couple nights he’s been calling out for his mothers... and you, even. Tonight was the first night he didn’t do that...” Justin trails off and scoots a little closer to Brian, closing his eyes.

 

“He called for me?”

 

“Mmm. Every night. Why don’t you ever come over to visit?”

 

Brian nuzzles his son’s soft hair. “I do. Occasionally. The girls don’t like me to come over too often. Probably ‘cause I interfere or something. If they want me to see him, they’ll usually call.”

 

“Oh. Well, you should come over more often. He likes you.” Justin reaches over to pat Gus’ back. “He’s a good kid. Not like Jenny. God, she’s a brat.”

 

Brian snorts, “She’s like, eight months, Sunshine.”

 

“Whatever. That kind of behavior stems early. It’s ‘cause everyone spoils her. Gus seems well rounded.”

 

“Yeah... Look, if you want to get out of here, I can wait for Jenny and the doctors.”

 

“I’d love to the fuck out of here. But, I have papers giving me permission to take Jenny home. You don’t.”

 

Brian nods. “I don’t even have papers giving me permission to take Gus home.”

 

Justin lifts his head to look at Brian. “You can take him home now. I’m giving you permission. It’ll probably be another half an hour or so, then Jenny and I can grab a cab and meet you at the house.”

 

“Cab?”

 

“Yeah. The girls took their car and I’m without transportation.”

 

“Cab?”

 

“Yes, Brian. A cab.”

 

“Like hell you’re gonna take a cab at four in the morning. I’ll just wait and give you a ride in the jeep.”

 

“Okay.” Justin isn’t about to argue. He’s tired and unhappy. “I’m going to sleep for a bit. You should, too.” 

 

His head hits the back wall with a resounding thump, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Moments later, his breathing evens out and his hands fall from his lap to his sides. One hand stops on Brian’s leg. Brian doesn’t make any movement to shake him off. There’s a news program on the television and Brian watches as grotesque pictures from Iraq flash on screen. He shakes his head. _That’s appropriate viewing material in a fucking hospital_.

 

Justin’s head slips from the wall onto Brian’s shoulder. An older woman passes them and shakes her head, so Brian flips her off and runs his hands over Gus’ back. 

 

It’s subtle. A slight movement in the right hand and, at first, Brian isn’t sure it’s happening. But then Justin’s hand forms a tight fist and his whole body starts to shake. Brian cradles Gus gently and leans over to put him on the chair, covering him with his jacket. He turns to Justin, watching as the younger man’s features shift from scared to absolutely horrified. He choses that moment to wake him.

 

Brian tentatively reaches out and places a hand on Justin’s shoulder. Justin jerks awake, his whole body leaps a couple inches from the chair. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he hisses. Brian quickly moves away from Justin. As Justin becomes more lucid, he looks around, stopping on Brian. “What are you doing...” And then he remembers and he covers his face with his hands. “God, I flipped out, huh? Shit. I’m sorry. I told you I don’t really like hospitals.”

 

Brian’s about to respond, but the doctor comes out, little Jenny enfolded in an obnoxiously gender-stereotypical pink blanket. 

 

“She’s going to be fine. It was just an ear infection. Some water got into it and irritated her. We flushed the fluids and gave her some medication.” The doctor looks at Brian and Justin, holding out a piece of paper between them. “This is a prescription for her medicine. And her ears need cleaning three times a day. We were able to get a hold of the mothers. The bill will be sent to them.”

 

Brian grabs the paper and then motions for Justin to take the baby. “Bullshit. I’ll pay the bill right now.” He turns to Justin. “I’ll be right back.”

 

In the jeep, Justin opens the window and weaves his hand rhythmically in the wind. “I like this song,” he tells Brian, smiling tiredly. “They’re good. More people should listen to them.”

 

“Yeah. They’re one of my favorite bands,” Brian agrees, raising the volume. The children are sleeping like logs.

 

“S’kinda domestic, huh?” 

 

“What is?”

 

With a grand sweep of his hands, Justin says again, “This. All of this. The whole... situation, I guess.”

 

Shrugging, Brian answers with a soft, “I don’t really know.”

 

They don’t say anything else and after putting the kids to bed, Brian pats Justin’s shoulder and leaves. Justin watches through the window as the jeep becomes a mere speck in front of a gray horizon.


	4. Invasion

“Brian paid for Jenny’s hospital bill?” Michael asks incredulously. He and Ben listened to Justin’s frantic messages the next morning and made plans with Justin for lunch that day. Justin has dark bags under his eyes and the kids are hyperactive.

 

“Yeah. Why? Doesn’t he help out ever? Linds told me once that he did.”

 

“He’s not supposed to. Not anymore. Not since he signed away his rights.”

 

“Oh. That’s what he meant,” Justin mutters. He sees the confusion on their faces and explains. “Last night, at the hospital, he mentioned not having any papers saying that he could take Gus home or something like that.” 

 

“Yeah. They’ve been jerks about letting Brian spend time with Gus. Even though Brian’s the one who kept them together in the first place. Mel cheated on Linds. So, Lindsay was going to marry this French guy to help out with the bills and the only way Brian could make her think rationally was offer her his rights. That way they could be a real family, like they wanted from the beginning.” Michael cuts his huge burger in half. “God, I love greasy food.”

 

“The girls tend to take a lot from Brian, so we convinced him one night not to offer anymore,” Ben told Justin, glancing longingly at his boyfriend’s dripping burger. 

 

“Oh,” Justin looks down at his spaghetti. He doesn’t really have an appetite. “I think this was different. A different kind of situation. I think he just wanted to get out of that place without any hassle, you know?”

 

“Sorry about that. If we remembered to turn the ringer back on...” Michael trails off and bites into his burger. He looks up and his eyes brightening at the sound of the diner’s door opening. “Brian!” He calls out over a mouthful of burger.

 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” Brian smirks, climbing into the booth next to Justin. “Hey, Sunshine. Long time, no see.”

 

Justin nods, handing Gus over to his father. “Take him. Please.”

 

“How’s parenthood?”

 

Justin answers with his middle finger. 

 

“How come you’re not at work, Bri?” Michael asks, suspicion in his voice.

 

“Too tired. That’s the great thing about being your own boss. You make your own hours.”

 

Justin swirls some spaghetti around his fork, bringing it begrudgingly to his mouth. What he wouldn’t give for something other than greasy diner food.

 

“Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” Brian asks, leaning in to inspect Justin’s face. “You look like shit.”

 

“Feel like shit, too. Kids are wearing me out.”

 

“Already,” Michael laughs. 

 

“Long night last night.”

 

Gus begins to babble to his father. Brian pretends he’s interested, snagging a fry off of Michael’s plate every few minutes. “Have you heard from Mel and Linds?” 

 

Justin shakes his head. The movement makes him a little nauseous. He needs some sleep. 

 

“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? I’ll bring Gus home later. I’m sure Debbie and Vic would love to keep Jenny for a couple days while she’s recovering.”

 

Justin’s about to protest, but Michael interrupts. “He’s right. You should rest. Ma loves Jenny. She’ll jump at the chance to take her.”

 

Brian gets out of the booth and tugs on Justin’s arm. “Up and at ‘em, Sunshine. Go home. Get some sleep.” 

 

Justin nods, sliding out of the booth. “I think I’ll take the bus home instead of waiting for a cab.”

 

“Bus?” Brian’s face twists in disgust. “You’re kidding me?”

 

“I told you last night I don’t have a car.”

 

Brian hands Justin a key. “Here, take the jeep. It’s just me and the kid today, I can use my other car.”

 

Justin looks at the key like it’s diseased. “I don’t know how to drive a jeep.”

 

“It’s easy. Right petal is gas, left petal is brake. D means drive. R means reverse. P means park. Easy.”

 

Justin grabs the keys and walks out without a second glance. Brian watches him with concern, then falls back into the booth, letting Gus play with Justin’s uneaten spaghetti.

 

“I like him. He’s a good kid,” Brian tells the others. 

 

“Yeah, but he’s not a kid, Brian. He’s twenty-five. Only five years younger than you.”

 

Brian tilts his head and looks at his friend carefully. “So?”

 

“Well, I mean... If you like him...”

 

Brian snorts. “Save your breath, Mikey. I’m not turning into some love sick queer. I’m just telling you that I find him tolerable. I’m not gonna marry him.”

 

“Brian,” Michael says seriously, placing the last of his burger back on his plate. “You gave him the keys to your jeep,” he say slowly, as if speaking to a child.

 

Brian shrugs. He knew Michael would make a big deal out of that, but he didn’t want Justin taking the bus home when he’s about to drop from exhaustion. 

 

“It’s too early for those kind of feelings, anyway,” Ben smiles around his sandwich. 

 

“Fuck off, professor. There are no feelings beyond civility. Jesus Christ, you guys are worse than Debbie.”

 

“Who do you think we learned it from?” Michael sticks his tongue out at his friend, who loses himself in wiping off the sauce from Gus’ small hands.

 

 

When Brian carries a sleeping Gus into the Muncher’s home, he almost trips over Justin’s shoes, which were thrown carelessly in front of the door. He curses and turns on the hall light, the rest of the house is sleeping in darkness. 

 

“Justin?” He calls out, unsure. He waits a moment and says Justin’s name again, louder. No answer. 

 

Brian climbs the stairs and puts Gus into his bed. The child cuddles his pillow, rubbing his face against it before stilling. Brian watches Gus sleep for a few minutes. 

 

He turns on the night light and leaves the door cracked open. Stopping in front of the largest guest room, Brian knocks on the door. He hears a noise and then some groaning. Moments later, Justin opens the door, shirtless, his hair falling every which way.

 

“Have you been asleep this whole time?”

 

Justin, still in a sleeping stupor, smiles groggily at Brian. “Mmm,” he mumbles. “You look hot.” He slowly presses a finger to Brian’s chest, running it up and down the hard body. “Wanna sleep over?”

 

Brian’s eyes furrow. “Justin,” he says, loud and clear. 

 

Justin jumps back. “Oh. Hey, Brian. What’re ya doing here?”

 

Raising a brow, Brian tells him, “I came to drop off Gus and just wanted to tell you that he’s home. You’re a deep sleeper, huh?”

 

Justin rubs his eyes like a little kid, then looks up at Brian in wonder. “Yeah. My parents told me I used to sleep walk. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, too. I don’t think I do it anymore, though... Oh. God. What’d I do? Something totally embarrassing, huh?”

 

Brian laughs. “Oh, it wasn’t so much what you did as it was what you said...”

 

“Oh, no,” Justin groans, leaning against the door frame. “Ignore it. I was sleeping.”

 

Brian decides not to comment on subconscious behavior and instead asks, “Are you going back to bed?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m not tired anymore, but I still wanna just crawl into bed and sleep for another three days. Why? You wanna watch a movie or something? They have a pretty good selection. Plus, they have the animated _Yellow Submarine_. I love that film.”

 

Scoffing, Brian says, “Nah. It’s close to midnight. But, I wouldn’t say no to a cigarette.”

 

“Mmm. Yeah. That does sound good. Hang on.” He retreats into the room and comes back with a pack of Camels and a sweater. “It’s cold in Pittsburgh during the night.”

 

They settle on the backyard porch, sitting on the cold steps in silence. Brian isn’t sure whether it’s his breath or the smoke or a mixture of both that’s creating the small clouds that come from his mouth every time he exhales. Justin’s still trying to get his lighter to work. Leaning over, Brian flicks his open and Justin smiles gratefully. 

 

“Thanks. God, I knew I should’ve gotten a BIC. These things are for shit,” he complains, tossing the lighter into the trash can in the corner.

 

“Nice shot.”

 

“Thanks. I used to play basketball in high school. Until they found out I was queer and kicked me off the team.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. I fucked this guy who was best friends with the biggest asshole on campus, Chris Hobbs. I don’t know why the fuck the guy thought it would be a good idea to tell Chris... Well, made my life a living hell.”

 

Nodding, Brian turns slightly to Justin. “So, you missed your chance at a lucrative career in sports? Am I sitting near the next Kobe Bryant and don’t even know it?”

 

“God, no. Unlike Kobe, I know how to play on a team. It’s a solo game with him.” 

 

Brian chuckles. “You don’t look like a sports fan.”

 

“M’not. Not really. Just basketball. And if you live in L.A., like I did for so many years, you sort of are required to watch the Lakers.” Brian tries another smoke ring, making Justin laugh and shake his head. “You’re hopeless.”

 

“Probably. So, do you like Pittsburgh?”

 

“Born and raised. It’s nothing new for me.”

 

“Really? Why’d you leave? No, wait. I understand why you’d leave. How come you’re back?”

 

“L.A. is too involved. I don’t give a fuck about half the shit those fuckers in Beverly do. I’m too much an east coast boy. All the way. I missed the snow. And my mom, my sister, and even my best friend Daphne are still here. Besides, being an artist, my home is expendable. I can be here or there. It doesn’t matter. I just prefer here. Plus, I don’t have to pay rent living with Linds and Mel. How about you? How come you’re not in L.A. making your fortune? Or New York for that matter?”

 

“I’ve had my chance at both, but... they’re all here, you know? Mikey, Linds, Gus, and Deb. They’re my family. And I have Kinnetik. It’s making a big splash. I’m pretty comfortable here.”

 

Nodding, Justin whispers a soft, “Yeah.”

 

The night is quiet. Justin moves his head to the open door, listening to see if Gus woke up. 

 

“He won’t wake up; he’s a deep sleeper,” Brian tells him, reaching for another cigarette. “Must get it from his moms.”

 

“Sorry about last night. I know you had company. That must’ve sucked.”

 

“What? I didn’t--Oh. Him. Yeah. Whatever. He was just a trick. Nothing special.”

 

“How come you’re not with Michael? I mean, it’s obvious you guys like each other and everything.”

 

“We’re best friends. We wouldn’t make good lovers. I could never offer him the stuff he wants in that kind of relationship. Plus, I could never love Mikey that way. Ever. And Ben’s really good for him.”

 

“I can tell, though.” Brian glances over at Justin, who’s playing with the foil from his cigarettes. “I can tell that Michael loves you. That way.”

 

“Maybe. But, it’s not the same kind of love he feels for Ben.”

 

“Did you always want to be a father?”

 

“Jesus,” Brian laughs. “You ask a lot of fucking questions.”

 

Justin smiles genuinely. “Sorry.”

 

Justin borrows Brian’s lighter for another cigarette and they inhale/exhale together. “I saw you, too,” Justin tells Brian, turning away, pretending he’s more interested in the fog covered roses.

 

“Saw me? Where?”

 

“At Babylon that night. I was watching you for a long time. That’s why Michael came up to me. To warn me.”

 

Brian shakes his head. “I’m not as bad as they made me out to be.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Justin wants to reach out and touch Brian’s hair. He wants to trace Brian’s lips with his fingers and cover his eyelids with kisses. 

 

“My last boyfriend hit me,” Justin blurts out. For some reason, he feels Brian should know. “I have a lot of baggage.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“About the baggage. I didn’t know about... That sucks. I’m sorry.”

 

Justin’s shoulders lift up and then fall heavily. “Yeah. But, I sort of brought it upon myself, you know?”

 

Brian grinds his teeth. “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you explain it to me?”

 

“I don’t mean I deserved it,” Justin reiterates, noticing Brian’s reaction. “I just meant... that I _knew_ what type of person he was and what would piss him off, but I went for it anyway. Whatever. I’m over it.”

 

“Why’d you tell me that?”

 

“Dunno. Thought you’d understand, I guess.”

 

Brian nods stiffly. 

 

Justin silently curses himself for bringing up something that obviously makes Brian uncomfortable. “I was bashed at my senior prom.” Justin wants to smack himself. “I’m not trying to make you pity me or anything--”

 

“Good, ‘cause pity makes my dick soft.”

 

A breeze throws Justin’s hair in his eyes and the ash on his cigarette goes flying and lands on Brian’s arm. “Sorry,” he smiles, leaning over to wipe the ash off Brian’s arm and instead, places a soft kiss on his lips. Brian doesn’t do anything to stop him. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever really been interested in.”

 

“I’m honored.” Brian’s lips tighten into a frown. “You shouldn’t expect much, though. ‘Cause I don’t do relationships or boyfriends or anything like that.”

 

“I know. I just... I wanted you to know. So if I blush over something you say or do something extremely embarrassing, it’s ‘cause I like you. Just... warning you.”

 

“Thanks,” Brian all but whispers. “I should get going.” He stands up abruptly.

 

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Thanks for giving me the day off--” But Brian is already in the house and out the front door.

 

“Damn,” Justin says to himself, pulling out another cigarette and, forgetting that he threw it away, searches aimlessly for his lighter. “Damn,” he repeats, tossing the cigarette onto the grass and moving into the warm house. “Stupid.” 

 

 

Brian slams into his trick with an almost reckless abandon. The guy’s making these disgusting rutting noises and Brian loves it. He reaches down to pull his trick’s hair and for a moment, imagines the curly black hair as a soft blond. He stalls, his dick buried deep into his trick’s ass, and watches as the dark skin turns pale and the muscular body becomes lithe and small. But then the guy grunts and pushes back. Opening his eyes, Brian is comforted with the fact that this guy isn’t blond. And isn’t small. 

 

And isn’t his best-friend’s cousin.


	5. Invasion

A week later, Debbie offers to take the children for the weekend. “Go out. Dance. Drink. Fuck. Whatever it is you boys do on the weekends. You need a break.” 

 

Justin would’ve argued, but he _wants_ to go out. He wants to dance, drink, and fuck. He especially wants to fuck. His own fist is only satisfactory for a short time.

 

Justin stands in the middle of Liberty Avenue, debating between Woody’s and Babylon. 

 

“Come with us to Woody’s,” Ben says, startling Justin out of daze. “We’re gonna shoot some pool. We usually don’t end up at Babylon until after eleven. That’s when it really starts thumping.” He smiles kindly at Justin. “Everyone’s there already.”

 

Justin follows Ben into the bar. The children have made him antsy and nervous. He sends grateful thought to Debbie. He needs this break.

 

“Hey, Justin,” Ted calls out, waving them over. “Good to see you again.”

 

Justin nods. 

 

“What’s your poison?”

 

“Beer or Beam.”

 

Ted gets him both. 

 

“Hey, Boy Wonder,” Michael greets him as they make their way to the pool tables. “Wanna get in on this?” He motions to the game he, Brian, and Emmett have already started.

 

“Nah. I don’t know how.”

 

Brian does a quick double take. “You’re kidding. Every boy from the Pitts knows how to shoot pool.”

 

“Not me.”

 

“That’s pathetic,” Brian grumbles, carefully aiming his cue. He hits the white ball and they all watch as three balls roll into three separate slots. “I’m surprised you don’t play.” He hands his cue to Emmett, who manages to get a ball into a slot.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“‘Cause you’re an artist. Pool’s all about precision and angles.”

 

Justin nods slowly, watching as Michael leans over the table, missing his shot completely. 

 

“Obviously Mikey here isn’t an artist,” Brian grins, taking the cue away from Emmett and again, sinking the balls into the goals.

 

“Fuck off. I’m usually not this bad. I’m really batting zero here tonight.” Michael steps in front of Ben and they kiss, momentarily lost.

 

“Get a room!” Ted yells, laughing as Michael pulls Ben into a deeper kiss.

 

“I thought you were into exhibition, Theodore,” Brian teases the man. He lifts his beer to his mouth and makes a disgusted face. “This is for shit.” He reaches over and takes Justin’s beer from his hand. Bringing the bottle slowly to his mouth, Brian takes a huge gulp. “Much better.”

 

Justin looks away as Brian licks his lips. “Keep it. I’m not thirsty.”

 

“Good. C’m’on, Sunshine. Play a game with me,” Brian insists, taking Michael’s cue and handing it to Justin. “We’ll teach you.”

 

Justin stutters over his answer as Brian sets the table up for a new game. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he tells Brian.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Take the triangle thingy off the balls. I like how they stay in formation even after you take the triangle away.”

 

Brian raises his eyebrows and grins. “Then do it.” He moves away from the table and gestures for Justin to lift the triangle up. “You’re a natural, Sunshine.”

 

And he is. Justin finds that not only does he like to play pool, he’s good at it too. 

 

“I should warn you,” Justin says as Brian walks around the table, surveying his potential shots. 

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m very competitive and get really pissy when I don’t win.” He frowns as Brian makes a perfect shot.

 

“Is that a threat, Sunshine?”

 

“Well,” Justin says, leaning over the table, carefully gliding the cue back and forth before making a shot. “I _am_ taking care of your son.” Justin looks into Brian’s eyes seriously for a moment before breaking out into a huge grin. “Fuck off, I’m kidding! Do I really look like the kind of guy who’d get all pissy over some game?”

 

“I dunno. You’ve been hanging out with children all week. Who knows what they’ve brain washed you with. And I have first hand experience with Gus’ competitive nature.” Noticing a flash of humor in Justin’s eyes, he asks, “So, you beat him at Go Fish yet?”

 

“Yeah. And once is enough to learn never to win again. God. Where’d that demon come from? He’s usually such a good child.”

 

“He gets it from his dad,” Emmett laughs. 

 

Brian wins the game--barely.

 

A tall, dark haired man saunters over to their table. “Hey,” he says to Brian, leaning seductively against the table. “You play a good game--really know how to aim those balls.”

 

Justin almost snorts at the man’s pick up line. He thinks Gus could do better.

 

Brian looks the potential trick up and down, sneaking a quick glance at Justin, who’s amused, if anything. 

 

“It takes practice. As do your pick up lines. Not interested. Sorry,” Brian tells the guy, picking up Justin’s beer and finishing it off. The man’s still there when he puts the bottle back down. “I’m serious.”

 

“Oh.” The guy bites his lip and frowns. “You sure?”

 

Brian reaches around and grabs the guy’s nonexistent ass. “Oh, yeah.”

 

Justin bursts into laughter when the guy leaves. “That was cruel, Brian.”

 

“The man has no ass!”

 

“Cruel.”

 

Shrugging, Brian leans into Justin and whispers, “You, on the other hand, have a great ass.” He pulls away and winks, before saying, “Let’s go to Babylon.”

 

The others glance curiously between Brian and Justin before getting up. 

 

“What was that about?” Emmett asks Justin in a stifled whisper. 

 

Justin merely shakes his head. “He’s just joking... I think...”

 

 

Babylon is packed. 

 

“God. Everyone and their grandpa is here tonight,” Ted yells over the noise.

 

Brian pats him hard on the back. “Then maybe you’ll finally get laid.”

 

At least three men approach Brian before they even reach the bar. 

 

“I didn’t know you were in such demand, Brian,” Justin yells into his ear, pulling back and smiling as another man comes up. 

 

Brian shrugs it off and, after a few drinks, accepts a dance with a young brunette. Justin watches out of the corner of his eyes for a minute before heading to the dance floor himself.

 

“Where’ya going, Princess?” Emmett asks, pulling on his arm to stop him.

 

“I want to dance.”

 

“Alone?”

 

“I won’t be alone for long. Someone will come around.” He grins and offers his friends a small wave before disappearing into the sea of sweaty men.

 

And he’s right. Not thirty seconds after Justin hits the dance floor, an older man comes up from behind and starts grinding into him. Another man presses his groin against Justin’s and they dance like that for a few minutes.

 

“Wanna go to the back room?” The trick in front of him asks, lust apparent in his eyes as Justin’s body moves fantastically to the music.

 

Justin shakes his head slightly. He still wants to dance. The trick behind him moves away and no one takes his place. Justin looks into the eyes of his dance partner and smiles. 

 

“You’re friends with Kinney?” The man asks, swaying his hips to the music.

 

Justin nods.

 

“He’s an asshole,” the trick insists, placing his hands delicately around Justin’s waist. “Why do you hang out with him?”

 

“He’s nice to me.” Justin doesn’t want to think about Brian. He wants to lose himself to the music.

 

“Wanna go to the back room now?” The man asks again, gently tugging Justin toward the back room.

 

“Wait--”

 

“For what?”

 

Justin pauses, looks around. None of his friends seem to notice him. Sighing, Justin leans forward. “I don’t bottom.”

 

“That’s fine. I will,” the man laughs.

 

Justin nods and the man leads him into the back room.

 

Brian’s receiving a blow job from some guy in the corner. Justin’s not sure, but he thinks that his trick positions them so that Brian will see them. He prepares the man swiftly and enters him in one quick thrust. 

 

His eyes close with pleasure as he stabs once, twice, three times. The guy’s into it, groaning appropriately and squeezing his muscles every few thrusts. Justin’s eyes open momentarily and he meets Brian’s lustful gaze. Brian’s mouth is slightly open, his chest heaving up and down. Justin watches as Brian’s eyes fall to the guy he’s fucking. Looking back at Justin, Brian’s eyebrows raise and then he smiles.

 

The smile eggs Justin on. He feels a tingle at the base of his spine as he moves his hips in small circles, making his trick cry out. “Jesus Christ,” the man calls as he comes. 

 

Justin’s no where near being done and continues pounding into the man as he watches Brian’s dick being swallowed by the guy on his knees. Justin comes when Brian comes and they share a small smile before zipping up.

 

Brian holds the curtains open for Justin. “I didn’t know you’re a top.”

 

“It’s the hair. People assume that just because I’m blond, I’m automatically a bottom.”

 

Brian laughs. “It’s not just the hair, Sunshine.”

 

He ushers them to the bar. 

 

“What’s that mean?” 

 

Brian turns to their friends. “So, do you guys think Justin’s a top or bottom?”

 

He’s answered with a chorus of “bottom”s. 

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Well, you’re so... fragile... looking...” Emmett trails off.

 

Michael agrees. “Yeah. And small.”

 

“And blond,” Ted says, raising his beer in salute.

 

“Well, guess what?” Brian announces to the group. “Justin’s a bona-fide top.”

 

“No shit?” Emmett squeals. “You any good?”

 

Justin blushes and orders a beer. 

 

“Do you ever bottom?” Michael asks incredulously. They all lean in.

 

Justin’s face pales. “Uh... No.”

 

“Wait. Have you ever bottomed?” Emmett asks, his face scrunching up in disbelief.

 

“Oh. Ah... Once or twice.”

 

“That’s too bad,” Brian sighs. The group falls into an awkward silence as Justin stares at Brian in disbelief. “We could’ve had some fun.” 

 

“You’ve gotta stop saying shit like that, Brian. It isn’t fair.” 

 

The others’ eyes shift between Brian and Justin.

 

Brian winks and walks back to the dance floor, grabbing a guy at the edge and disappearing with him into the crowd.

 

“You know... I think I’m going to call it a night,” Justin grins uneasily at his friends. “See you tomorrow... Maybe...”

 

 

“Where’s Justin?” Brian asks the minute he returns. He flips his hair out of his eyes and it sticks to his forehead. His shirt’s open and sweat is dripping down his chest. 

 

“He left a while ago. You shouldn’t fuck with him, Brian,” Michael complains. 

 

“I’m not fucking with him.”

 

“You do know he likes you, right Brian?” Emmett asks wearily. He brings his martini to his mouth and looks at Brian over the lip of his glass. 

 

“Nah. He just wants me to fuck him. He’ll get over it. We talked about it.”

 

The others just roll their eyes.

 

“What?” Brian asks in an exasperated tone.

 

“Did you really ‘talk’ about it, Brian? Or did you just walk away like you always do?”

 

Brian takes a deep, calming breath. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being grilled?”

 

No one responds. They just linger around the bar for a while, each lost in thought.

 

“He’s hot, though, huh?” Emmett teases the man, nudging him with his shoulder.

 

Brian turns around quickly and orders a shot. 

 

“Mm hmm,” Emmett says in an annoying know-it-all voice.

 

Buttoning up his shirt, Brian turns to face his friends. “You guys are being asses. Nothing’s going to happen. Jesus.” He shoots back his liquor, surveys the room, then waves to his friends. “I’m heading out.” He pushes away from the bar and leaves through the front door, dodging the reaching arms of desperate men.

 

“Well, this’ll be fun,” Ted sighs. “How much you wanna bet he heads over to Mel and Linds’?”

 

 

Justin doesn’t even enter the house. He waits, leaning against the gate, smoking a cigarette. The headlights of Brian’s jeep blind him momentarily, then darkness again. He hears the crunch of Brian’s footsteps.

 

Brian takes the cigarette from his fingers and the sound of the tobacco burning echoes in the stillness of the night. “I like these. What kind are they?”

 

Clearing his throat, Justin says, “Camel Turkish Gold 100s.”

 

“They taste better than reds.”

 

“Yeah. Marlboro’ll kill you.”

 

“They all do, eventually.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Justin lights another one and hands it to Brian, their fingers sliding against each other’s. “Thanks.”

 

Brian’s mind was reeling on the ride over. He had thousands of speeches planned about queers and love and fucking, but now that he’s next to the blond, he can’t remember a single one. And it’s pissing him off. His anger is rolling off him like waves and Justin senses the disturbance.

 

“I didn’t mean to act like such a dyke.”

 

Brian grunts his response.

 

“It’s just that so many people think it’s funny to fuck with my feelings. I’m sort of sick of it.”

 

“I was kidding.”

 

Justin takes a long drag from his cigarette. On the exhale, he responds. “You don’t know me too well yet.”

 

“So, what? You’ve got a stick up your ass or something?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“I told you I don’t do this shit.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Then why’re you making a big deal out of it?”

 

“It’s just how I’m feeling, Brian. Don’t worry. I’ll get over. I don’t expect you to fuck me or anything.”

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

 

A pause, then, “No.”

 

“Liar.”

 

It’s almost a whisper and Justin isn’t sure he hears it.

 

“I talked to the girls today. Lindsay told me you’re quite charming, but not to fall for your crap.”

 

“Whatta sweet friend.”

 

“What does it matter, Brian? Nothing’s gonna happen anyway. You said so yourself.”

 

“God. Stop that.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Throwing what I say back at my face.”

 

“Then, don’t say it if you don’t meant it.”

 

“I do mean it!”

 

“Then, what’s the problem?”

 

Brian huffs loudly. He tosses his cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out, smashing it underneath his foot. He does this for a long time. 

 

“Why’d you have to tell me that you like me?” He asks angrily. “I didn’t even think of you as a possibility until you said that. I don’t--” He exhales heavily. “Besides, Lindsay would kill me if I even touch you. She gave me a death threat before they eloped.”

 

“I’m a big boy, Brian. I can make decisions for myself.”

 

“Look. I just came here to reiterate that I’m not going to fall in love with you.” He sees Justin flinch. “I don’t want to love you. I’m not going to love you. So, stop trying.”

 

Justin’s eyes unwillingly fill with tears. “I’m not trying,” he whispers honestly.

 

“Well, it feels like you are. I mean, Jesus, _why_ would I love you?” The venom in Brian’s voice has Justin opening the gate and walking up the path to the house. 

 

Brian, of course, immediately regrets saying what he does. He wants to chase after Justin. Say that he didn’t mean it. That he’s just being retarded. That he doesn’t want to love anyone. That that doesn’t mean Justin’s unlovable. But his feet stay firmly rooted to the ground and his voice never leaves his throat.

 

“Good night,” Justin hollers hoarsely, his voice bouncing off the houses around them. He turns, slides the key in the lock, and securely shuts the door behind him. Sliding down the door, Justin crumples into an emotional mess. 

 

_It’s pretty easy not to love me_ , he thinks dramatically to himself. The thought makes him laugh, but then he’s hit with a sudden wave of irrational fear and loneliness. _Who’d want to_. Brian’s voice screams in his head. “I’m not going to love you... Why would I love you?” And sounds too much like it has in the past. Too much.


	6. Invasion

Painting has always been a form of catharsis for Justin. When the world becomes too demanding, he likes to lose himself in his art. That’s what makes him a good artist--his constant need to paint. 

 

But today, Justin stands in front of the blank canvas, his brush dripping black and his creativity... nonexistent. 

 

He wants to hate Brian for saying what he said. For being stoic and reserved and, well, so much the asshole everyone says Brian is. But he can’t. He’s caught up in soft touches and humorous glances--the little nuances that aid in the making of a terrible crush.

 

Justin’s arm reaches out and he paints a short down stroke in the middle of the canvas. He connects that stroke with another, only slanted. Brian’s last words appear on the canvas like some sick horror film. He starts to blot out the canvas until it’s a textured black hole, the words leaping out in disdain.

 

Justin feels so self-absorbed. 

 

Well, his professors would always tell him to “paint what you know.” 

 

He leans against the desk in the studio and studies his painting. He thinks back on his career as an artist and realizes that he has never once painted _happy_ love. It’s always been bleak, painful, and dark.

 

Paint what you know.

 

Only, for once, he wants to be able to paint something colorful and bright and... trivial. Trivial is good. He’d welcome the mundane.

 

_He didn’t have to be so mean._

 

Stupid Lindsay. Why’d she have to fuck some guy and ruin her marriage? Justin decides to blame Lindsay entirely for the shitty weekend he’s been having.

 

A repetitive, annoying noise keeps interrupting his thoughts. Looking around the room, his eyes land on the house phone, the antennae blinking red as it ceaselessly rings. Sighing, he walks over to it and wills that it shut up.

 

“Hello?” He asks weakly.

 

“Sunshine! What are you doing this afternoon?” Debbie's shrill voice forces the phone away from Justin’s ear.

 

“I’m painting.”

 

“Well, take a break and come to my house for lunch. Everyone’s gonna be there. I’d love for you to come!”

 

“Oh... I don’t...”

 

“Come.”

 

Justin sighs. “Fine. What time?”

 

“Two.” Debbie snaps her gum in victory.

 

“Fine. I’ll see you later.”

 

 

Justin arrives later than Brian. He runs into the house, breathless, cheeks bright pink from exertion. 

 

“Sorry! I missed the bus and then I couldn’t get a cab, so I had to walk here!” He places his hands on his knees and breaths deeply. He just can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.

 

“You walked? Sunshine, you shoulda called. Someone woulda picked you up,” Debbie says, concerned. She puts a hand on Justin’s back and starts rubbing it. Justin’s beginning to wheeze. “Are you okay?”

 

“F--fuck--fucking asth--asthma--” His voice is stilted. “Just... need... room.”

 

“That means get the fuck away from him, Debbie,” Brian calls out, annoyed. “Jesus. Don’t you know anything about asthmatics?”

 

Debbie throws Brian a heated glare. “I’m just trying to help.”

 

Brian shakes his head and goes back to his magazine, trying to ignore Justin’s stunted breathing. Eventually, it evens out and Justin stands upright, his watery gaze instantly finding Brian’s. 

 

Justin’s the first to look away and Brian sighs inwardly. 

 

“How come you didn’t meet us at Babylon last night?” Michael asks. “I called and called, but you never answered.”

 

Waving a hand in the air, Justin settles on the couch, sitting as far away from Brian as humanly possible. “Oh. I was... Busy.”

 

Brian makes a weird tsk-ing noise in the back of his throat. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence, then Justin turns to Debbie and asks about the children. The rest of the room glances meaningfully at each other.

 

 

Lunch is awkward, to say the least. There’s no longer that carefree camaraderie between Brian and Justin.

 

Debbie’s the first person to say something.

 

“What the fuck’s the matter with you two?”

 

Justin shrugs. “Nothing.”

 

“Well, how come you guys aren’t flirting shamelessly like you usually do?”

 

Casting a small glance at Brian, Justin says, “We don’t flirt.”

 

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that and maybe it’ll come true.”

 

They don’t respond and Debbie lets it go. For now.

 

 

Brian’s staring at himself in the second floor’s bathroom mirror. He prays for it to be over. He hates feeling this way. He hates feeling regret and apologetic. He wishes Justin would just shrug the other night off.

 

Brian keeps telling himself that it’s only because he likes Justin’s company. That’s why, try as he might not to, he keeps thinking about Justin. 

 

The hot water from the sink steams up the bottom of the mirror. Brian takes one of his hands from under the running water and wipes the mirror off, leaving an uneven streak. The streak twists his reflection into something unidentifiable.

 

_That’s not me_ , he insists to himself. Grabbing a towel from the rack, he cleans the mirror, the surface gleaming smooth and normal.

 

Normal.

 

God, what he wouldn’t give to feel that way again. 

 

To not feel so bad.

 

To not feel at all.

 

He wonders to himself what it is about them, _that family_ , Lindsay and Justin, that makes him behave differently. To think, feel, act so unlike himself. 

 

Or, so unlike the self everyone else knows. 

 

Or... so like himself. 

 

Maybe.

 

Shaking his head, Brian momentarily recalls a class on Buddhism he took in college. “When you do something, you should burn yourself completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.” He’s never been quite sure what that means, but it’s like his mantra. It’s about humility, he assumes. Or maybe it’s about good deeds. Fuck. He really doesn’t know. And he really doesn’t care. He just likes the part about leaving no trace of himself. He’s been doing that for years. Coming and going out of men’s lives, disappearing once they orgasm. They eventually forget his face and the feel of his hands, mouth, and cock. He eventually floats away like ash and dust.

 

Maybe that’s why the whole thing with Justin pisses him off. Because Justin won’t let him go. Justin’s words, the pain in his eyes, the cracked good-bye; they swarm restlessly through his brain.

 

It’s always drama with Lindsay, too. Is it just innate in their family? Or is it a blond thing? 

 

But good’s always coming out of the drama. Sticking by Lindsay has brought Brian a strong friendship, a kinship, and a son. But, Justin...

 

Brian sees his eyebrows press together. There’s nothing with Justin. And it’s so goddamn confusing.

 

Slapping his cheek lightly, Brian insists that he stop thinking like a lesbian. To stop thinking about it. He’s an asshole to almost everybody. Hell, he’s even an asshole to Michael and Deb on occasion, but it’s never been an issue. It’s who he is.

 

“Right?” He asks his reflection out loud. His reflection raises an eyebrow and then shakes its head slowly. “Fuck you. It is.” Brian throws some water at the mirror in retaliation. 

 

Justin bursts into the room, pulling at his zipper frantically. “Uh...” His ministrations stop when he realizes he isn’t alone. “I’m... God... I’m sorry! I really have to pee...” He slowly backs away, cheeks red. He’s almost to the door when Brian reaches out, wrapping his arm around Justin’s waist and pulling him back in, slamming the door behind them. “What are you--”

 

He stops when Brian pulls him into a hug. “Stop being like this,” Brian whispers. “I’m... I didn’t really handle that whole situation the way I wanted to...”

 

Justin’s eyes are wide. He pushes Brian away. “How were you gonna handle it, then?” He asks, searching Brian’s face until it’s too much for Brian and he has to look away. “What? Were you gonna give me the same speech I hear you give every trick who starts imagining himself in love with you? About one night only and relationships and what a fucking loner you are? ‘Cause if that’s what you’re gonna say, save your breath. I’ve heard it a million times.”

 

Brian’s confusion is evident and he opens his mouth to ask something, but Justin cuts him off. “You’re just like all my other boyfriends,” Justin spits out. “Good, at first. Nice, at first. Then vicious. Vindictive. Selfish. I’m used to it, don’t worry. But I’m not going to accept it anymore, Brian. It’s not what I want.”

 

“Then you’re going to be very disappointed in life, Sunshine.” Brian’s jaw tightens and he swallows hard. 

 

“Who says I’m not already?” 

 

Brian looks at Justin, his mind reeling. Justin thinks for a minute that Brian is going to defend himself, but instead, Brian steps aside and walks to the door. “You have to pee. See you downstairs.”

 

Brian shuts the door lightly behind him and Justin hears his footsteps fade down the hallway. His bottom lip is quivering slightly. His need to pee has all but vanished.

 

“Fuck!” He leans back against the door. “Fuck,” he says again, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. He bangs his head lightly against the door, willing all this unexpected drama out of his life. 

 

There’s a knock on the door and before Justin can move, Brian’s soft voice is heard through the door. “Listen. Just because I’m scared... and acted irrationally on that fear doesn’t make me vicious, Justin. Or vindictive and selfish. It makes me... human... And fuck you for making me feel bad for being human. For once in my life, I react to my feelings and I get trashed for it. I don’t believe in apologies, Justin, otherwise I’m sure I’d be apologizing like crazy right now. But I just _can’t_. Do you get it? I can’t.”

 

“Why?” Justin isn’t sure he actually spoke the word out loud. 

 

“Because that’s not who I am.”

 

“But--”

 

“No, Justin. It’s not who I am.”

 

“But--”

 

“Justin! Why can’t you just accept the fact that I _want_ to apologize?”

 

Justin pauses, his palms caressing the door, imagining Brian doing the same thing. “How is that any different from apologizing? By admitting you want to apologize, isn’t that like apologizing?”

 

“I--” There’s a long moment of silence. Brian pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and looks up to think. After a minute he says, “Huh... I’m not... I don’t know...”

 

Despite himself, Justin snickers. “God, we’re being real drama queens about this, huh?”

 

He hears something that sounds suspiciously like Brian giggle, then, “I’m never a drama queen, Justin. It must be all you.”

 

“Sure,” Justin says, snorting. “You know,” he pauses, then continues. “No one’s ever offered me a non-apology before. It’s kinda funny, but... your non-apology seems more sincere than anyone’s so-called real apology.”

 

“So,” Brian raps on the door lightly. Justin pushes away and opens it a crack. They look at each other, grinning softly. “Do you accept the fact that I don’t do apologies?”

 

“Sure. If you accept the fact that I don’t do drama queen.”

 

They both smile real smiles for the first time since they’ve spoken. 

 

“Suddenly, I have to pee again.”

 

Justin can hear Brian’s laughter echo down the hall as he walks away.


	7. Invasion

“When did you two become such good friends?” Michael mutters to Justin after Justin and Brian come back from a couple hours on the dance floor. They’re soaked in sweat and Brian leaves a giggling Justin to buy them ice cold beers. 

 

“What?” Justin asks with a slight drunken slur. He leans into Michael, breathing heavily on his face. “Who wouldn’t want to be friends with me?” Justin guffaws. 

 

Michael pushes him away and begins to peel the label off of his beer bottle. “Be serious. You guys were all mad at each other and suddenly, you’re best friends? It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Justin stops swaying to the music and narrows his eyes at Michael. “What? Are you jealous or something? Wittle Mikey’s jealous a wittle bit? Hmmmm?”

 

“Please. Get over yourself.”

 

“Not over me, stupid.” Justin shakes his head and then points toward Brian, who’s at the far end of the bar. “Over him.”

 

Michael rolls his eyes and steps aside, ready to join Emmett on the dance floor. 

 

“‘Cause I know you’re in love with him.” Justin’s voice is sure and steady, quite a change from his tipsy giggling moments before. Justin sees Michael’s fists clench into tight balls and makes the wise decision to shut up.

 

Brian returns with three beers. “One for you, Mikey.” He kisses his friend’s cheek sloppily. “Thought I’d forget you, huh? But I’m a good boy.” He winks and then downs his own beer like it’s water.

 

Justin follows suit.

 

“You guys better slow down. ‘Cause I have to be at work for an early shipment and I’m not gonna drive your drunk asses home,” Michael growls, grabbing his beer off the bar and marching out of sight.

 

Justin and Brian watch him retreat with the same bright eyes. They glance at each other, busting out into a fit of giggles. 

 

“I think dad’s mad,” Brian whispers, putting his fingers to his lips in order to hush a snorting Justin. “I think we should behave.”

 

Brian’s finger falls from his mouth as a hot blond passes by him. “Hey,” he calls out to the guy, who stops and turns around slowly. 

 

He looks between Brian and Justin. “Wanna fuck?” Brian asks, a huge grin on his face. 

 

Justin clicks his tongue and stomps his foot. “I wanna fuck him, too. That’s not fair.”

 

“Shoulda said something, Sunshine. I saw him first.”

 

“Actually,” the man interrupts their silly bickering. “I could do you both.”

 

“Like, me first and then Justin?” Brian asks, the liquor clouding his mind.

 

“No. Like one of you can fuck me and I can fuck the other. At the same time. You guys are fucking hot.”

 

“I’m a top,” Brian and Justin say together. 

 

“Ooo-kay. Well, one of you could fuck me and I could suck the other one off?”

 

Before they can answer, Emmett and Michael slide next to their drunken friends. “I wouldn’t do that. They’re too drunk. It wouldn’t be worth it,” Michael tells the guy, pulling Brian toward the door. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to take you home. Emmett will take Justin home.”

 

Justin looks at Emmett when he hears this. “Do I really have to go home?” He asks, a pout taking over his boyish features. “I wanna stay out longer. Please?” He almost whines the word.

 

Laughing, Emmett tugs at Justin’s arm, following Michael’s lead. He offers an apologetic shrug to the potential trick and effectively gets Justin to follow him by promising, for some odd reason, a snow cone.

 

The cold air hits their faces with an intense rush. Michael and Brian are waiting for them by the jeep. “So, you take the twink home and I’ll take Bri home,” Michael nods at Emmett.

 

“I’m not a twink! Are we really getting snow cones?” Justin’s hopeful voice makes Emmett smile.

 

“If we can find a store that’s open and sells snow cones, I’ll get you one.”

 

Emmett takes Justin’s hand into his own and they start walking in the opposite direction.

 

“Wait,” Brian calls out. “Why does he get a snow cone and I don’t get jack shit? I didn’t even get laid tonight. That’s really not fair.”

 

Justin sticks his tongue out at Brian and says, “It’s ‘cause they all like me more than you.”

 

Michael rolls his eyes. “Go home, Boy Wonder. Sleep well.”

 

 

“I don’t think Michael likes me very much anymore,” Justin’s voice is quiet.

 

Emmett denies the impulse to look at him, trying to focus on the road. He’s beginning to think that driving after four drinks isn’t such a great idea. Especially if they’re going to talk about the dynamics of the Brian and Michael Show.

 

“Oh, he likes you plenty.” 

 

“He did.” The drive is sobering Justin up. 

 

“It’s just that... well, I think maybe he thinks you’re taking his place in Brian’s life.” Emmett drawls. Justin opens his mouth to argue, but Emmett cuts him off. “And you are. In a way. I mean, you guys get along really well. You share a lot more interests with Brian than Michael does.”

 

Justin shakes his head vigorously. “Yeah. But. That’s not my fault.”

 

“Michael’ll get over it. He gets it from Deb. You know, that protective mothering crap they like to pull. He’s not really in love with Brian, despite what we all might believe. He loves him, yes. But he knows, deep down, that it would never work out. They’re too different. And their friendship it too important. Just... uh... don’t fuck Brian. Because if you do, I think Michael will really stop liking you. You know... ‘cause Brian supposedly doesn’t fuck friends...”

 

Justin doesn’t answer. Instead, he lets out a huge sigh and places his feet on the dashboard, unrolling the window in order to smoke. 

 

“You don’t like that idea, do you?”

 

The lighter makes a clicking noise and the car is filled with a sudden wisp of smoke. “Not really. No. But Brian isn’t ready for anything more. I don’t think...” But he trails off and doesn’t finish his explanation.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Justin...”

 

“I just... I don’t think Brian will ever be ready for anything more. He’s going to have a sad, lonely life.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t be sure about that. I know many single people who are happy.”

 

“Yeah, but... Ah, never mind.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Emmett makes a frustrated noise. “Justin. I’m trying to have a conversation with you. I’m trying to help you. So, just say whatever it is you want to say and get it done with already.”

 

“All right. But, don’t tell Brian I said this, okay? He’d be pissed.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Justin places the cigarette in his mouth and inhales deeply. Letting the smoke glide through his lungs for a moment, he finally exhales and says, “Brian thrives off of attention, you know? I mean, that’s why he and Michael are such good friends. ‘Cause Michael’s the perfect little lap dog. But what happens when Michael finally grows up or moves away or realizes how important Ben is to him? Then what happens to Brian? Brian would be happy being single if he was guaranteed a regular fan base of drooling admirers.”

 

“That’s quite perceptive, Justin.”

 

“Psychology 10B.”

 

“But I think you’re wrong.”

 

Justin shrugs and says nothing. Then, turning to Emmett, a slight feral grin on his face, he says, “That guy was really hot, huh?”

 

“Who?”

 

“That blond guy that wanted us to fuck him. He was damn good. Tasty tasty.”

 

Snorting, Emmett pats Justin’s head affectionately. “You’re really fucking cute, you know that?”

 

“So I’m told,” Justin answers, shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance. They’re at a red light and Emmett’s able to study his expression. Justin’s nose scrunches up and he bites his bottom lip, slightly shaking his head.

 

“What now?”

 

“I just...” Justin trails off and nods to the road. “Green.”

 

“Oh.” Emmett shifts gears and turns left. “Sorry.”

 

“I want...”

 

“What do you want, Justin?”

 

“Well, all my life people have told me I’m cute. I have a cute smile, a cute laugh, a cute body, blah, blah, blah.”

 

“You don’t like cute? What? You’d prefer hot? Or sexy?” Emmett grins at his own joke, but notices Justin nervously fiddling with his lighter. “Or what?”

 

“I just wish it wasn’t an issue.”

 

“What? You being cute? Honey... most people would kill for your looks.”

 

“Yeah. But that’s all, you know? All the guys I’ve ever been with... well, they pursue me ‘cause I’m cute. I’m a cute, middle-class white boy from the suburbs. No one ever sees anything else.”

 

“Well... you’re an artist, too.”

 

Justin lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah. I’m your typical art fag. Blond hair, blue eyes, soft spoken, cute bubble butt. I’m like a VW Bug. The newer ones, you know? Everyone thinks they’re so fucking cuuuuute. But no one really takes them seriously. I mean, you don’t buy a Bug for its performance. Not really. You buy it ‘cause it’s cute and comes in cool colors. And all your friends love it. But once you grow up... well, can you imagine a fifty-year old business man driving one of those things?”

 

“Damn. Alcohol makes you bitter.”

 

“I’m actually a bitter person.”

 

“Yeah right.” Emmett slows down and pulls into the driveway. “Well, here we are.”

 

“I hate being here when it’s just me. I get lonely. I’m not used to having so much space.”

 

“Uh... you’re not... gonna invite me up, right? ‘Cause we’re just friends and I think Brian would flip a lid if we fucked.”

 

Justin’s smile lights up the inside of Emmett’s car and calms him down. Laughing softly, Justin opens the car door and unlatches his belt. “Sorry, Em. You’re really not my type.”

 

Emmett watches Justin stumble down the pathway and finally unlock the front door. He doesn’t pull out of the driveway until the door shuts and the porch light flicks off. 

 

“I might not be your type,” Emmett says to himself. He puts his car into drive and heads to his apartment. “But it’s obvious who is.” 

 

 

“You shouldn’t string him along like this, Brian. You know nothing will come of all that flirting you guys do.” Michael’s helping Brian into his loft. 

 

“Who? What?” Brian slips off his shoes, leaning heavily into Michael. “I don’t flirt.”

 

“Yeah, you do.”

 

Brian slips in his socks and reaches down to rip them off, dangerously close to falling. “I hate--fucking--socks!” He cries, flinging them across the room. “And I might flirt,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks up the stairs to his bedroom. “But it’s just for play. For fun. You’re right. Nothing’s gonna come to it.”

 

Michael edges closer to the bedroom, watching Brian change through the partitions in the wall. “So... uh... you know who I’m talking about, then?”

 

He sees Brian stop unbuttoning his pants. Heaving a loud sigh, Brian says, “Justin.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Brian goes to remove his pants, looks over and sees Michael watching him. Instead, he grabs some sweats out of this drawer and heads to the bathroom. “I can take over from here, Mikey. You don’t need to stay.”

 

“I don’t mind. I’ll stay ‘til you’re in bed.”

 

His voice muffled, Brian answers. “Uh... okay... just... make sure you lock up.” He doesn’t need to see Michael’s smile to know that it’s there. “Look, Mikey...” He begins, stepping out of the bathroom shirtless and cautious. “I don’t need you to tell me to watch myself. I can take care of it.”

 

Michael joins him in the bedroom. He runs his hand over the soft blue duvet as Brian slides into the bed. “I know that, Brian. I just... I don’t want to see the tw--Justin... I don’t want to see Justin hurt.”

 

Brian gives him one of those looks. The one where he raises his eyebrows in wonder and stares until the recipient has to look away from embarrassment. Over the years though, Michael’s learned to hold his own. “What?” He asks Brian, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

 

“Like you give a flying fuck about Justin’s _feelings_.”

 

A little harsher than he expects Brian to be, Michael gazes at him before quickly looking away. “I just don’t get why you’ve been hanging out with him so much lately. You hardly know him.”

 

“Well, that’s why I’m hanging out with him so much. So that I can get to know him,” Brian says matter-of-factly.

 

“But why? Why waste your time? Your energy? You know he’s more than willing to fuck you. Why not just get it over with? Why play hard to get?” Michael’s voice raises an octave. He gets up to start pacing the room. 

 

“Jesus, Mikey. I’m not playing anything with him. We’re just friends. I want to be his friend. He’s nice. Talented. Intelligent... Funny. God, he’s fucking hilarious. He almost got us kicked out of a restaurant tonight ‘cause he was being so--”

 

“You went out to dinner with him?”

 

“Well, yeah. Just like I go out to dinner with you.”

 

“Don’t compare our relationship with each other to your relationship with Lindsay’s _cousin_. God. She’s gonna be so pissed.”

 

“Why? That I’m friends with her cousin. I doubt that, Michael.”

 

“Just be careful, that’s all.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Well, you know his types. Blond, cute, and young. He’s probably used to everything being handed to him on a silver platter. God knows Lindsay is.”

 

Brian sinks into his pillow and reaches over to turn off the light. “He’s not Lindsay, Michael. And he’s not you. Everyone has different experiences in life. And unless he’s told you all about it himself, don’t make any assumptions. Make sure you set the alarm before you leave.”

 

Michael trudges over to the door and listens to the stillness of the loft for a moment before punching the alarm’s code and locking the door behind him.


	8. Invasion

For the first time since he’s moved back to Pittsburgh, Justin is hanging out with Daphne. They’re sitting on the porch outside, watching Gus and Daphne’s daughter, Lauren, play on the sturdy swing set at the far end of the yard. Their giggles and shrieks echo sharply, making Daphne and Justin smile and roll their eyes.

 

“God,” Justin moans, pulling out a cigarette. “Everything’s so simple for children.”

 

Daphne reaches out to smack the cigarette out of his mouth. After giving Justin a stern look when he huffs at the loss, Daphne smiles and asks knowingly, “Why? I thought you said you were ready for, and I quote, ‘the simplicity of Pittsburgh’ after so much drama in California. Is life not treating you well, Justin?”

 

The teasing tone in her voice irks Justin and he groans, leaning back on his hands and lifting his head to the sky. Daphne studies Justin intently, seeing his eyes move back and forth behind his closed lids. She watches as he shakes his head slowly and pouts.

 

“Oooh. There’s a man involved! Come on! Dish it out!” Daphne leans into Justin, cornering him between the porch and her soft body. 

 

Justin laughs nervously. “There’s no one, Daph.”

 

“Mm hmm.”

 

“There isn’t!”

 

“Sure, Justin.” She does that annoying thing where she pats his knee like he’s a child in need of comforting. She knows how much it pisses him off.

 

“I’m serious!”

 

Instead of answering, Daphne allows a small smile to play on her lips. He watches as her smile slowly grows. “Is he hot?”

 

Justin shakes his head in frustration.

 

“So, he’s not? Is he a troll?”

 

“No, he beauti--” Realizing that he fell for her trick, Justin claps a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes.

 

Daphne jumps up from her seat. “I knew it! I so knew it! Who is he? Where’d you meet him?”

 

Tugging at the hem of her skirt, Justin says, “Shut the fuck up, Daph! God. Be quiet!”

 

“What? There isn’t anyone here but me, you, and the kids.”

 

“Just... shhhh... okay?”

 

“Fine.” Daphne sits down. They’re silent and Justin’s happy for the reprieve. “What’s his name?”

 

Groaning, Justin peeks at her through half closed eyes. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

 

“Nope. So, you might as well tell me everything.”

 

 

“So, let me get this straight--”

 

Justin snorts at his friend’s choice of words.

 

“Okay, not ‘straight,’ but... gah! Fuck it. You know what I mean. So, he said some really mean shit, but then admits to saying it because he’s scared? And when I say scared, I mean scared of you? Of what you represent? And now you guys are like, really good friends?”

 

“For the most part.”

 

“But he likes you right? I mean, like... in a non-platonic way?”

 

“God. I don’t know. I mean, sometimes I think that he does. But, other times... I think he just wants a friend who understands him; who lets him be himself without any of the usual bullshit the rest of his friends put him through.”

 

“But.. that’s sooooo not you. It’s obvious you’ve already strung him though a hell of a lot more than he’s been known to put up with. Why do you think that is?”

 

“Well, ‘cause he likes me as a friend, of course. I mean, we get along really well.”

 

“But you guys don’t fuck?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Kiss?”

 

“Just that once.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So, it’s kinda like your relationship with me, then, right?”

 

Justin lets out a bark of laughter. “Uh, no. Not quite.”

 

Pouting, Daphne asks, “Why not?”

 

“‘Cause I don’t want to suck your hard hot cock.”

 

“Oh. This is true.”

 

Gus runs up to Justin and hands him a weed that he found in the grass. “It’s pretty. Like you.” The boy smiles and claps his hands when Justin places it behind his ear.

 

“He’s a charmer,” Daphne giggles, pointing at how silly Justin looks with the weed adorning his hair.

 

“Just like his dad.”

 

They watch as the kids play on the slide. They slide, one after another, on their stomachs, shrieking like banshees. 

 

“He such a good kid,” Daphne nods to Gus. “He’s so... comfortable with being a kid, you know? Like, he knows his boundaries and works with them.”

 

“He’s just a kid, Daph.”

 

Daphne shrugs her shoulders. “He’s very handsome.”

 

“He gets that from his dad, too.”

 

A wailing from Jenny’s baby monitor tells them that it’s time for lunch. Reluctantly, the two friends call the active children into the house, hoping that lunch will calm them enough for a short nap.

 

 

After effectively putting Gus and Lauren down for their afternoon naps, Justin and Daphne are watching the television quietly. The door bell rings, making the two friends jump.

 

“Expecting anyone?” Daphne asks, getting up with Jenny in her arms and following Justin to the door.

 

Justin cracks open the door and his face breaks out in a gigantic smile. “Brian!” He opens the door wider. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

 

Unnoticed, Daphne takes a moment to check Brian out. _So far, so good_ , she thinks as her eyes graze his toned body and beautiful face. _Very good_ , she smiles devilishly to herself. Clearing her throat, Daphne steps up to them.

 

“Oh! Brian,” Justin begins. “This is my best friend, Daphne.” The two look each other up and down openly. “Daphne, this is Brian.”

 

Brian is the first to extend his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles.

 

“Likewise,” Daphne grins. They both stare pointedly at Justin.

 

“You’ve been talking about me, Sunshine?” Brian asks, his face completely serious, but his voice full of mirth.

 

“Sunshine?!”

 

“Yeah. My best friend’s mom called him that one day and it... sort of stuck,” Brian explains, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. Justin’s eyes wander to that hand and can’t help but think of other things it could rub. His cheeks redden a bit and he turn away abruptly, wandering back to the living room.

 

“It fits you, Justin. Or should I say, Suuuuuunshine,” Daphne drawls out. She looks at Brian and the two of them immediately crack up.

 

“God,” Justin groans. “I knew it would be a bad idea if you two met.”

 

 

A half an hour later, Brian and Daphne are hollering with laughter at Justin’s expense.

 

“And then,” Daphne finishes her story, “He has the nerve to call me that night and lie his ass off! Not knowing, of course, that I saw them! I fucking saw them, Brian!”

 

Brian’s eyes are wide with humor as he tries to stifle his laughter. “Slick move, Justin.” He bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing more after Justin flips him off.

 

“I could tell you a shit load of stories about Daphne,” Justin begins, glaring at his friend. 

 

“But, Suuuunshine,” Daphne sighs, “Brian doesn’t know me like he knows you. It wouldn’t be as fun.”

 

“But--”

 

“She’s right, Suuuuunshine,” Brian agrees.

 

Their laughter dies down and they sit in comfortable silence for a long time. Daphne keeps shooting furtive glances between Brian and Justin, trying desperately to figure out their relationship.

 

“So, Daphne,” Brian begins, breaking the silence. “You’ve heard mine and you know Justin’s, what’s yours?”

 

“Oh,” Daphne’s cheeks twinge red. “It was Justin. I asked. He agreed.”

 

“Really?” Brian’s eyebrows shoot off his forehead. “And that didn’t cause any... uh... problems?”

 

“Oh, it caused plenty,” Justin says before Daphne can even think of a response. “For one thing, Daphne insisted that she loved me and wanted me to be her boyfriend.” He leans back into the couch cushions, happy to finally have some dirt to dish out on his friend.

 

Brian looks at Daphne who’s blushing madly and then at Justin, who’s grinning happily. “Musta been good, then, huh, Sunshine?”

 

“Oh,” Justin answers, looking Brian straight into the eye. “I’m the best.”

 

“Gross,” Daphne mutters. “Get a room.”

 

Justin shoots Daphne a heated glare. A look which doesn’t go unnoticed by Brian. Before Brian can fulfill his duty of changing the subject, a sheepish Gus enters the room.

 

“Hey, Sonny Boy,” Brian smiles at his son, who refuses to get any closer than a few feet of them, despite his father’s welcoming arms. “What’s the matter?” Brian asks, worry in his voice.

 

Daphne watches Brian easily slip into father mode and can’t help but like the man.

 

“I went potty,” Gus whispers, quickly looking away from Daphne and Justin in embarrassment.

 

“We all do,” Brian explains, getting up. “It’s natural.”

 

“In the bed,” Gus told his father pointedly.

 

“Oh...” Brian pauses as his mind wraps around this new information. “Oooohhh.”

 

Getting up quickly, Justin says, “I’ll take care of it.” 

 

But before he can reach Gus, Brian holds up a hand to stop him. “No. That’s okay. I’ll take care of it. I used to wet the bed, too. Poor kid. It’s probably hereditary. The first time I did it, though, my dad smacked me across my face with my baseball mitt and made me stay up all night and wash the sheets by hand.” Daphne’s mouth drops in alarm. Brian turns to look at them, “This is my chance to make it right, you know? Do what my father never did?” He picks up his wet son and carries him out of the room.”

 

“I think I’m in love,” Daphne sighs, leaning back and placing her heart over her hand. 

 

“Too bad!” Justin snaps before turning bright red and hiding his face in his hands. “Oh my God, Daph. I’m sorry. God. I know you’re kidding. I mean, he’s most emphatically gay.”

 

“Oh man, Justin,” Daphne starts, getting up to sit next to him. “You have it so bad!”

 

Justin shakes his head for a moment, then looks out at Daphne from over his fingertips. “Yeah,” he finally sighs. “I know.”

 

 

It’s late. Brian and Justin are sitting on the couch in the living room, admiring the mess two children can make in a mere two hours. 

 

“I like Daphne. She’s got... spunk,” Brian tells Justin, kicking one of Gus’ toys over with his foot. The kid has more toys now than Brian thinks he’s owned his entire life. He tells Justin this.

 

“His parents obviously love him.”

 

Brian nods his head slowly and surveys the room. “So, it’s how much a parent buys his child that proves his love?”

 

“What?” Justin’s head turns sharply to look at Brian. “No. Of course not! I mean, my dad gave me everything in the world and now look at us. We hardly talk and when, on the rare occasions that we do talk, it’s only to fling angry, hurtful insults at each other. No. I was just saying...”

 

“Relax, Sunshine. I understand.”

 

Justin nervously fiddles with a snag on his jeans for a minute before sighing. “What a bitch Daph is for leaving me with such a mess.”

 

“Us.”

 

“What?”

 

Brian gets off the couch and stretches, his long arms almost touch the ceiling. Justin can’t keep his eyes off the way Brian’s entire body elongates itself. He wonders what Brian’s body looks like underneath all that clothing and blushes appropriately.

 

They work well together. Justin finds Brian a rather efficient cleaning buddy, accepting Justin’s barking orders in stride and happy to put together the smaller toys. Justin takes a break to watch as Brian sits on the floor, gathering up the Barrel of Monkeys, lost in his own little world. Justin grabs his sketchbook from the drawer in the coffee table and begins to draw Brian. Smiling to himself, Justin thinks that he has a sketch of Gus in the exact same pose from a couple weeks ago. 

 

“What the fuck?” Brian whines when he sees Justin on the couch. “Why do you get to sit merrily on your plump ass while I have to slave away?” He complains, throwing the completed toy into the toy box. 

 

“Brian, you weren’t working. You were playing.”

 

Brian shrugs and grins at Justin. “Just making up for lost time.” He starts to put away Gus’ Lego set, but gets a better idea. “Care to join me, Sunshine?”

 

Justin looks up from his drawing and rolls his eyes at Brian’s childlike excitement. “And we’re how old?” He asks, but slides down off the couch to join Brian on the floor.

 

“It’s what’s in the heart that counts,” Brian smiles. “What’s your favorite color?” 

 

“Blue,” Justin answers, clearing away an open space on the floor. He looks up with surprised eyes as Brian slides all the blue Legos in his direction. “Thank you.” His voice his filled with awe.

 

They compete with each other to see who can make the tallest, largest building. Brian plays just as dirty as his son, Justin discovers. Brian’s foot “accidentally” knocks over Justin’s much better piece of architecture. It’s when Justin reaches out to slap down Brian’s building that his hand cramps in unbelievable pain.

 

“Fuck!” He cries out, cradling his hand against his chest. His cheeks are glowing red and his eyes are washed with unshed tears. “Jesus Christ!”

 

Brian quickly puts the Legos away and crawls over to sit next to Justin. “What’s the matter?” He asks calmly, almost lazily. Justin holds up his throbbing hand and winces. “This?” Brian asks, reaching out to uncurl Justin’s fingers. “Here.” He takes Justin’s smaller hand in his own and messages it. 

 

The pain slowly subsides and Justin’s left with only a slight aching. “Thanks,” he whispers. He pulls his hand away from Brian’s and shakes it out. “That felt awesome. The message, I mean.”

 

Brian nods and gets up. He quickly puts the rest of the toys away. By the time he’s done, Justin has recovered and is sitting, embarrassed, on the couch. 

 

“Sorry about that,” Justin laughs, his face red. “Left over from the bashing.”

 

Shrugging, Brian reaches into his pocket to take out a tin can. Justin sits up a little straighter when Brian pulls out a joint.

 

”God,” Justin laughs, moving his legs so that Brian can join him on the couch. “I haven’t smoked weed in ages.” Brian leans forward and offers Justin the joint. “I don’t even know if I remember how.”

 

Brian chuckles. “Bullshit. It’s like learning to swim. Weird at first, but you get the hang of it. And then you never forget how.”

 

“Most people use riding a bike as an analogy.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Brian tosses Justin a lighter. “I never learned how to ride a bike.”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“It’s true.”

 

“But you know how to swim?”

 

“Yep. My dad threw me in the pool one day and I taught myself. It was either that or drown, so I figured...”

 

Justin picks up the lighter and looks at the joint, still in Brian’s outstretched hand. “You go first.”

 

Brian rolls his eyes, but takes the lighter away from Justin and lights up. Justin watches as it sparks and a small trail of smoke explodes from the end of the joint. Brian pulls it away from his lips and holds his breath, hollowing his cheeks to keep the smoke in. Justin’s eyes follow the greenish smoke as it slowly glides out of Brian’s mouth. “Your turn, Sunshine. Just remember, hold it in.”

 

Just places the slightly damp joint in his mouth and lights it. He feels the knowing tickle in the back of his throat and fights the urge to cough. 

 

“Good boy,” Brian grins as Justin inhales sharply a couple times, trying to keep then smoke in his lungs. He lets out the air with a quick gasp and Brian laughs heartily. “Okay?” He asks, stroking Justin’s arm a moment before taking the joint back. 

 

Justin nods his head slowly, waiting eagerly for his next turn.

 

Paranoia starts to creep in after they quickly finish the joint. Justin claims he hears two grown men arguing over a woman in the kitchen and vividly freaks out when he swears he hears gun shots. Brian grabs Justin’s arm when Justin gets up to investigate. “Hold it there, Fox Mulder. There’s nothing going on. It’s just the drugs.”

 

“You’re no fun.” Justin sticks out his tongue and crosses his arms, but his interest in the “voices” soon wears off as that comfortable heaviness creeps in. 

 

They talk about everything. The new _Star Wars_. Brian’s newest business venture. Their favorite food and drink. Justin is pleasantly surprised to learn that Brian is knowledgeable when it comes to art and Brian almost falls off the couch when Justin regales him with the inner workings of marketing strategies. They discuss music, politics, books, friends, and family. Finally, they slip into a cozy silence. 

 

Brian becomes aware of Justin’s foot resting lightly against his thigh the same moment Justin does. Justin quickly moves it and stuffs as much of himself as he can into the corner of the couch. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

 

It’s like Justin’s foot left an indentation on his leg. Brian can still feel it there moments later and even as he moves his leg, the feeling’s still present. He turns to stare openly at Justin, taking in his beauty and intriguing delicacy.

 

Justin, aware of Brian’s scrutiny, stands up suddenly. “I have the munchies. You want anything?”

 

He turns around to watch as Brian saunters over to him. The drugs make, in Justin’s mind, Brian’s features more pronounced. More elegant. More gorgeous. Justin licks his lips as he watches Brian raise an arm to scratch his back. _Damn_ , Justin thinks. Out loud, he asks again, “You want anything?”

 

Brian stops his itching and stares directly into Justin’s eyes. “Yeah,” Brian answers slowly. 

 

“Good. I hate eating alone. What do you want?” Justin asks, making a break for the kitchen.

 

Brian grabs the back of Justin’s shirt and pulls him flush against his chest. “You,” he whispers huskily into Justin’s ear. 

 

“W--what?” Justin questions timidly, unsure if he heard correctly.

 

“I said I want you,” Brian repeats louder. “You’re... God! I don’t know...” He leans down and inhales Justin’s hair. 

 

The intimacy combined with Brian’s words cause Justin’s skin to break out in small bumps. He groans as Brian nuzzles his neck, his mouth dangerously close to Justin’s skin. Brian’s hand’s wander around Justin’s waist and up his chest. He runs them up and down languidly. Justin reaches around and grasps the back of Brian’s thighs. 

 

“Brian,” he says with a staggering breath. “Do something.”

 

Brian continues to breath on Justin’s neck and starts to slowly rotate his hips against the small of Justin’s back. 

 

“Oh, God.” Justin’s breath catches. His shirt has ridden up his back and he feels Brian’s clothed erection stab at his skin. 

 

“Jesus,” Brian stutters, pressing his nose to the back of Justin’s hot neck. 

 

They stand like that for a long time; not kissing, not really touching. Brian finally places a hand on Justin’s cheek and turns Justin’s head to face him. They begin to lean into each other, but are interrupted by the shrill ring of the house phone.

 

Justin leaps out of Brian’s arms and dives for the phone. “Hello?” He asks, his voice breathy and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “What? Oh. Hi. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just... you startled me, is all. Yeah. Tomorrow? Oh. Okay. No, that’s great.”

 

Brian listens to Justin’s one sided conversation with hidden interest. Finally, Justin hangs up the phone and turns to Brian. “That was Lindsay. She and Mel are coming home tomorrow.”

 

For some reason, that breaks whatever spell they were both in. Justin walks Brian to the door and they say sloppy good-byes. 

 

“Shit,” Justin breaths once the door closes behind Brian. 

 

It’s only when Brian’s in his jeep does he realize that his hands are shaking.


	9. Invasion

“Were our children demons?” Lindsay asks good-naturedly as she and Mel drop their bags on the living room floor. 

 

Justin shakes his head. “Gus is a dream. He’s a perfect kid, really. You couldn’t have done better.”

 

Melanie comes up behind Lindsay and wraps her in her arms. “And Jenny?” 

 

“Uh... Jenny’s...” Justin trails off.

 

“That bad, huh?” Mel laughs. “She gets it from her father, I think.”

 

“Sure, Mel. That’s it,” Justin smiles. “So... Are you two... okay?”

 

The two women regard each other with smiles and then look back at Justin. “Yeah. We talked.”

 

“A lot,” Lindsay adds.

 

“We’re better.”

 

“Good.”

 

Lindsay unravels herself from her wife’s arms. “So, did anything interesting happen while we were gone? Any big revelations?”

 

“Not really. The hospital thing was scary. But, Brian came and--”

 

“Brian?” Mel asks, her head shoots up in surprise. “He went to the hospital?”

 

“Uh... yeah. I was freaking out and couldn’t get a hold of anyone else.” Justin takes one of the suitcases from Melanie and starts to drag it up the stairs.

 

Lindsay wanders around the living room, breathing in the familiar scent of her home when something catches her eye. The drawer of the coffee table is slightly open and, reaching in, she pulls out a sketchpad. “Is this one of yours?” She calls out to Justin, who doesn’t answer.

 

Flipping to the first page, Lindsay is greeted with a rudimentary drawing of Melanie and Gus playing outside. She’s always admired Justin’s talent. An admiration that used to be jealousy, she is able to admit. Turning the page, she finds a beautiful rendition of herself in her robe, drinking her morning coffee. As she gets further into the sketchbook, Lindsay is surprised by how many drawings there are of Brian.

 

Brian and Gus. Brian and Michael. Brian and Deb. Brian eating breakfast. Brian smoking. A lot of Brian smoking, actually. Lindsay’s eyebrows lift at some of the more sensual drawings. 

 

The Brian that Justin has drawn beautifully is unlike the Brian Lindsay knows so well. This Brian, the Brian on paper, is much like the Brian she’s seen around Gus; the Brian that only Gus has the privilege of knowing.

 

_Gus... and maybe Justin_ , Lindsay admits as she studies the many nuances of Brian Kinney captured on paper.

“Did you say something--” Justin begins to ask, but stops mid sentence when he sees what Lindsay is looking at. 

 

Lindsay holds up the sketchbook and smiles. “You’re so talented, Justin. Tell me when you want that show at the gallery and it’s yours.” She carefully avoids talking about Justin’s obviously favorite subject.

 

Justin walks up to Lindsay and almost rips the sketchbook away from her. Her surprise is evident. “Do you always snoop through other people’s personal belongings?” He snaps at her, hugging the sketchbook in his arms.

 

They stare at each other without saying a word. Lindsay’s eyes narrow as she watches Justin grip his sketchbook possessively.

 

“So,” Lindsay clears her throat and stands up, walking around the couch. She stops in front of Justin and smiles. “Did you see a lot of Brian?”

 

Justin’s face pales slightly and then begins to redden with realization that Lindsay had, indeed, gone through his entire sketchbook. “Not much,” he whispers.

 

“Justin,” Lindsay starts, placing a tentative hand on his arm. “I thought I told you to stay away from him.”

 

“God! I’m an adult Lindsay.”

 

“Yeah. I know that. And you can make your own decisions, but... Brian’s not like other boys. He... He’s not looking for what your looking for.”

 

Justin huffs like an angry teenager. “We’re just friends, is all.”

 

Lindsay nods her head stiffly and then exits the room. “Fuck,” Justin whispers. 

 

 

“I’m coming! Jesus Christ!!” Brian throws open the loft door, which slams into the wall with a deafening crash, only to find a stern looking Lindsay on the other side. “Lindsay,” Brian momentarily stutters. “Wow. Didn’t you just get back?” He leans in to kiss her cheek, but she avoids it, walking stiffly into the loft. “Ooo-kay. Come in.”

 

She glides over to the bedroom and peeks in. “I’m not... interrupting anything, am I?” Finding the room empty, she continues without waiting for a response. “I love you, Brian. You know that. You’re a great friend and a wonderful father and I couldn’t be more pleased about how my life with you has turned out...”

 

Sighing, Brian grabs a glass off his drink cart and fills it with whiskey. “But?”

 

“But... I don’t want you to fuck with my cousin. Or fuck him, for that matter.”

 

Brian nearly chokes on his drink. “What?” He asks, his voice raising in pitch. He wonders, briefly, if Justin talked to her about... him.

 

“You’re charming. And handsome. And... I don’t know... rich...”

 

“So, you think he wants me for my money?” Brian jokes. He can’t think of a more ridiculous explanation.

 

“No. No. Of course not. But, it’s part of the package.”

 

“What package?”

 

Lindsay drops to the couch and takes Brian’s drink out of his hand. She sips it lightly and shudders. “This is gross.”

 

“What package?” Brian asks again, his voice dropping low.

 

“The Brian Kinney Package.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Brian scoffs. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that you’re a dream come true to Justin. He’s only had it bad in life, Brian. He’s had shitty relationship after shitty relationship and I know for a fact that he still isn’t over the bashing. Then here you come: calm, smart, _together_ , and he thinks... God... I don’t know what he thinks... That you’re some god or something.”

 

Brian’s raises a brow and stares at his friend’s exasperated face. “Well, I know he likes me. What’s the point here, Linds?”

 

“My point is... I don’t want you to see him.”

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t want you to be alone with him. I don’t... I don’t want you to hurt him.”

 

Brian sucks in sharp breath and nods grimly.

 

“And I know you’ll hurt him ‘cause I know who you are, Brian. I know. I know you. I know what you want and I can promise you it’s nowhere near what he wants. So, please, I’m begging you. Friend to friend, mother to father... Don’t do anything with him. I don’t want to see him hurt. I’d like him to experience some good in life before he gets more of the bad.”

 

“That bad includes me?” Brian asks. He hides it well, but his throat constricts and he feels something undeniably close to pain. “That’s... that’s fucked up, Lindsay.”

 

“It’s the truth,” she whispers. They sit uncomfortably with each other, neither one knowing what else to say. “So,” Lindsay suddenly exclaims, slapping her thighs in finality. “That’s it.” She gets up and turns to Brian. “We’re having a huge family breakfast this Sunday. You had better be there.”

 

“Yes, _Debbie_ ,” Brian sneers.

 

Laughing, Lindsay pulls back the loft door and skips down the stairs, her good deed done.

 

Only when he’s sure Lindsay is gone does Brian react. Setting down his whiskey, Brian slumps onto the couch, letting out a shattering sigh before falling over on his side and curling his legs under his body. “Bitch,” Brian whispers, shaking his head. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

 

 

The girls pay for Justin to make a night of it. Handing him a wad of bills, they tell him to go out and party with all the other “hot young studs on Liberty Avenue,” as Melanie puts it.

 

Before Justin can get a foot through Babylon’s door, he’s being propositioned. They’re hot, he notices. But he only wants one person. And that person is standing at his usual place near the bar with the usual people.

 

“Hey,” Justin smiles, grabbing a spot next to Ted. 

 

“Out on a week night?” Ben teases Justin. “I guess that means you’re done with parenting?”

 

“For now,” Justin winks. He’s greets the rest of the gang, noting that Michael is attempting to play nice, before turning to Brian. “Hey,” he repeats somewhat hesitantly.

 

He doesn’t really know what to expect. All he does know is that he’s been hard ever since Brian wrapped his arms around his body and thrust his erection against his back. 

 

Brian responds with a curt nod, refusing to look Justin in the eye. “I’m going to dance,” he tells his friends, placing his empty beer bottle on the bar. “Later.” Justin watches in dismay as Brian saunters off to the dance floor, already in predator mode. 

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Justin asks his friends meekly. 

 

Emmett shrugs it off. “He’s been like that all night. Forget about it. Want something to drink?”

 

A small half-smile adorns Justin’s face. “Yeah. Look,” he pulls out the money Lindsay and Melanie gave him. “It’s on me. Or rather, on the girls.”

 

He throws back two whiskeys in a row and hold up his hand for a third before Emmett tenderly reaches out to stop him. “Slow down, Justin,” he insists. “You have all night.”

 

Justin rips his arm away from Emmett. “Leave me alone. I’ll do what I want.”

 

They all stare at Justin when he says this. They’re not used to such open hostility. At least, not with him. “What?” He asks. “Fuck. I’m going to dance.” He storms off. But instead of going to the dance floor, he heads over to the back room and grabs a guy near the entrance. “Suck me,” he demands, settling against the wall and closing his eyes. He tries to lose himself in the warm mouth and somewhat talented tongue.

 

“Starting early, are we?” Brian’s familiar voice interrupts. 

 

Justin cracks an eye open to see Brian leaning on the wall opposite of him, no trick in sight. “You in here alone?” Justin takes in a deep breath as his trick brings up a hand to cup his balls. “Or just waiting for the first willing piece of ass?”

 

“Isn’t that what you did?” There’s a hint of anger in Brian’s voice which causes Justin to open his eyes all the way.

 

“What do you care?”

 

“Good question,” Brian mutters before pushing off and leaving the back room. 

 

“Bri--! Stop it,” Justin hisses to the guy servicing him. He zips up and runs out of the back room, following Brian out the door. “Brian!” He calls out as the man nears his jeep. “Wait.”

 

“Go back in, Sunshine.”

 

“No. Not until you talk to me.” Justin’s now standing in front of Brian, blocking the jeep door.

 

“About?”

 

“About the other night.”

 

“I was high.”

 

“On pot! Pot doesn’t make you _do_ things, Brian. That was all you.” Brian turns his face to look away from Justin, but Justin won’t allow this He reaches out and places a hand on Brian’s chin, grabbing it and forcing Brian to look at him. “You want me to leave? I’ll leave. I promise. Just say the words.” He’s still gripping Brian’s face. The minutes pass by and neither one make a move. “What’s the matter? Trying hard to think of a good lie to get rid of me.”

 

“I don’t lie,” Brian insists, his voice flat and emotionless. 

 

“Then why aren’t you acknowledging me?”

 

“‘Cause.”

 

“I don’t think so, Brian. That might’ve worked in grade school, but it won’t work now.” Brian remains silent. Justin allows his hand to release Brian’s chin and slide down his arm, caressing Brian’s hand with the tip of his fingers before he takes a step away. Trying another route, Justin whispers, “I asked you what you wanted that night and you said me. You said you wanted me. Don’t you want me anymore?”

 

Brian’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth slightly, as if to say something, then decides the better of it and looks at the ground.

 

“Then there’s my answer,” Justin sighs. He shakes his head and takes another step back.

 

“Justin--” Brian stops him. “I... I can’t.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Justin mutters, “Not this again. Jesus, Brian. Just admit that you _won’t_ and get this over with. ‘Cause can’t leaves room for possibility and I’m very obstinate.”

 

A ghost of a smile plays on Brian’s lips. He knows how obstinate Justin can be; what a determined and driven man Justin is. “I won’t because I can’t,” he explains, moving aside to let Justin pass.

 

“Scared?” Justin asks, his voice loud and steady.

 

Brian turns back to him, forcefully. “A little,” he admits, surprising even himself. He pushes Justin away from his door lightly. 

 

Before he can shut the door, he hears Justin whimper, “Take me with you.”

 

His hand hesitates as he thinks of the possibilities. Shaking his head, resigned, he reiterates, “I can’t.” He shuts his door and starts the ignition. The clouds overhead darken threateningly and a strong wind blows Justin’s hair every which way, an image Brian doesn’t stop watching in his rearview mirror.

 

 

A steady knocking on the front door has Justin running down the stairs and throwing it open in record speed. At first, he’s unsure of who he’s looking at, but then, the visitor takes a step forward. It’s Brian, his clothing clinging from the rain and there’s an almost animalistic look is in his eyes.

 

Justin clears his throat and then greets Brian. Holding the door open for him, Justin tries not to stare at the way Brian’s shirt molds his body or the suggestive way his pants drip off of his legs. Brian turns around, his breathing heavy and his cheeks red.

 

“What’s going on?” Justin asks, concerned. He walks over to Brian and studies his face. They stare at each other momentarily and then suddenly, they’re in each other’s arms, mashing their lips together with unexpected urgency. 

 

Brian slams Justin against the wall, knocking down a couple family photos. The crash doesn’t stop them from attacking each other’s mouths. Brian’s hands roam to Justin’s ass and moves down his thighs. Using his own body to hold Justin’s up, Brian brings Justin’s legs around his waist. They continue crushing their lips together, all hopes of breathing lost as their tongues and spit become intertwined. 

 

Justin takes small desperate breaths through his nose as Brian presses him impossibly closer to the wall, groaning loudly when Brian’s hand begins to squeeze and tug at the crotch of his pants, making him impossibly harder. His arms move off of Brian’s shoulders and make their way under his shirt. He relishes in the feel of the warm, wet skin and allows his hands to wander up Brian’s chest. 

 

Brian’s tongue explores Justin’s mouth. He can’t believe how much he likes the taste of Justin; the feel of Justin’s tongue against his own; the smoothness of his teeth; the softness of his lips. It makes Brian incredibly hard. They being to rock in succession, finding a strong rhythm. Justin’s nails rake his chest and he shivers, groaning when Justin’s strong fingers clasp onto his nipples. 

 

Neither one can breath, but they don’t care. There’s so much passion and lust and wanton energy. The hall begins to heat up as they gasp and rut and pound against each other.

 

They don’t notice Emmett entering through the open door, shaking the rain off his umbrella, unaware of the coupling against the wall until he looks up. “I knew it!” Emmett shrieks, staring at the two men desperately clinging to each other. 

 

It takes a moment for Brian and Justin to realize they have an audience. Justin’s legs slip from around Brian’s waist and they stand there, breathing heavily, face in neck.

 

“I knew it!” Emmett says again, only much louder this time. A manila envelope falls from his grip as he presses his hands to his mouth and giggles. 

 

Still gasping for air, Brian settles against the wall next to Justin. Their lips are swollen and their mouths glisten. “We... We weren’t...” Justin tries. He can’t seem to control his breathing. “We weren’t... doing anything...” He assures Emmett.

 

“Bullshit!” Emmett cries loudly. “You guys were practically swallowing each other whole! Oh my God! How long has this been going on?!”

 

“Emmett?” A voice from upstairs calls. 

 

Emmett watches, grinning, as Brian and Justin scramble to make themselves presentable as Lindsay walks down the stairs. She smiles at Emmett and then turns to see her cousin and best friend looking very disheveled.

 

“Brian? What are you doing here?” She asks suspiciously, taking in their flushed faces and still heavy breathing.

 

“I was just leaving,” Brian almost gasps. He doesn’t move, however. His hand brushes against Justin’s and it takes all his control not to attack Justin again. 

 

“And I’m going with him,” Justin insists, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack and heading to the door. “Come on, we can beat the storm,” Justin addresses Brian, holding out his hand hurriedly.

 

Emmett tries to hide a smile as Brian dashes quick glances between Justin and Lindsay. “He’s right, Brian,” Emmett tells the man, placing his hand on Brian’s shoulder and pushing him gently. “You should go now, before the storm gets worse. They say it might snow later.”

 

The situation seems to register with Lindsay and she’s a sudden flurry of anger. She stomps over to Justin and shoves him toward the stairs. Glaring at Brian, she points to the door. “Get. Out,” she breaths, her words bitter and staggering.

 

“What’s going on?” Melanie asks from the top of the stairs. She looks from Justin to Lindsay’s pointing hand to Brian’s wet body and then to Emmett, her eyes pleading for some sort of explanation.

 

“I was just leaving,” Brian says again, following Lindsay’s outstretched arm to the door. Justin takes a step in his direction, but the look in Brian’s eyes make him stop cold. “Alone.” Brian nods to Emmett and leaves, practically running to his jeep.

 

“What was that about?” Melanie asks again. 

 

“I just came by to give Lindsay the party plans for the gala event,” Emmett explains, picking up the envelope he dropped earlier and handing it to Lindsay.

 

“What was Brian doing here?” Melanie wonders, completely confused when Justin pushes past her and stomps up the stairs furiously. “Justin?” She calls after him and then turns to Lindsay. “Did I miss something?”

 

“Fucking Brian,” Lindsay mutters, slamming the front door shut at the same time Justin slams his bedroom door. The walls shake.

 

“Uh... Isn’t that my line? I mean, I’m the one who’s usually mad at Brian. What’d he do?” 

 

“He... Justin... Messy...” Lindsay huffs, trudging to the living room and falling onto the rocking chair. “Bad.”

 

“Uh...” Melanie’s really confused. She turns to Emmett. “What’s going on?”

 

“Oh. It seems Lindsay’s cousin and best friend have a thing for each other.” He waits, continuing only when Melanie’s wide eyes register understanding. “I guess they finally decided to take the next step. Who knows. But, I think there could be something there.”

 

Lindsay snorts.

 

“Come on, Linds. He’s your best friend. Justin could do much worse.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Melanie interrupts. “You mean... Brian and Justin are... fucking?”

 

“No. I don’t think they’ve fucked--”

 

“Yet.” Lindsay’s voice is bitter.

 

Melanie wanders over to the couch and sits down. “Huh. You know... that’s kind of... I don’t think that would be so bad.”

 

Both Emmett and Lindsay stare at her with open mouths.

 

“I mean, I don’t really like Brian, but... I think Justin’ll be good for him.”

 

“But Brian’ll just fuck him and ditch him.”

 

“You really have no control over that, Lindsay,” Melanie tells her softly. “You know how it goes: tell someone they can’t have something and they’ll go after it even worse than before. And I know you. I know you probably already figured that there is something going on between the two of them and told them that they can’t... do whatever it is they were planning on doing.”

 

“So, I should just let Brian hurt my cousin after he’s been hurt so many times before?”

 

“That’s not really your problem, Lindsay,” Emmett explains, sitting next to Melanie. “If Justin wants Brian, he’s going to get Brian.”

 

“But Brian... He has... rules... there’s no future with him.”

 

“I don’t know. I think he likes Justin. A lot. Like, _likes_ Justin.”

 

Shaking her head, Lindsay insists, “Brian doesn’t do boyfriends or love or anything like that. We’ve heard him say that millions of times.”

 

“That’s ‘cause he hasn’t met anyone that he’s wanted to be a boyfriend to or that he’s wanted to love,” Emmett grins. 

 

“Until now,” Melanie whispers with small smile. “Maybe. Who knows. He’s so fucked. I can’t wait.” Melanie’s smile grows.

 

There’s a noise in the hall and Justin sticks his head into the room. “I’m going out,” he tells them, his eyes daring them to argue. When they don’t, he smiles shyly and says, “Don’t wait up.”

 

“Justin!” Lindsay calls out, getting up from her chair and walking to the door. “Take the car.” She hands him her keys. “Oh. And... don’t... don’t let him hurt you.”

 

Justin’s eyebrows raise and he smiles. “I won’t.” 

 

 

The pickings are anything but slim at Babylon and yet Brian’s standing there more indecisive than ever. Not that he’s not horny. Because he is. His dick is causing his pants to tent from the strain, but nothing’s really sparking his interest. Nothing, that is, except his hot make-out session with Justin.

 

“Fuck,” he admonishes himself. His dick is pulsating and he bites his lip until there’s blood in his mouth.

 

“Need some help with that?” A voice asks him. An older man, about thirty-five, is grinning at him, licking his lips and lifting his eyebrows suggestively. Brian eyes him, a quick up-down, and then grins back. They don’t say a word as Brian leads them to the back room, but the man makes a noise of disapproval when Brian stops abruptly.

 

“Maybe we should go to my place,” Brian says to the man. When the man opens his mouth to protest, Brian narrows his eyes and deepen his voice. “I think it’s gonna take a while.”

 

“Just point the way.”

 

 

Brian finds it more annoying than sexy, the way the man is kissing his neck. He can’t punch in the code to the entrance hall with the guy’s large body blocking his view and confining his arms. 

 

“Can’t you stop it for just a minute?” Brian asks sharply, pulling away from the man’s grasp. 

 

“I can’t keep my hands off you,” the man whines, leaning in again. “You’re so fucking hot.”

 

Brian manages to punch the correct code in and the door buzzes open. “Thank God,” he mutters, grabbing the guy by his belt and dragging him into the building. 

 

“Let’s just take the stairs,” the man groans into Brian’s neck. “It’ll be quicker.”

 

They climb up the stairs, their breathing heavy and uneven. As they round the corner, Brian realizes how tired he is. _It’s been a long day_ , he sighs to himself. He looks up and sees that there’s someone sitting in front of his door, his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. It’s Justin, who’s smile falters when he sees that Brian isn’t alone. _And it’s just gotten longer_.


	10. Invasion

It didn’t go as Brian expects. Instead of a huge fallout, Justin merely flashes Brian and his guest a shy smile, apologizes for interrupting, and leaves. Brian stands there, confused, while the man he’s brought home with him asks annoyingly personal questions.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you or what?” Brian asks the man grumpily as he holds the loft door open for him.

 

The man can’t decide. He keeps jetting glances between Brian and the direction Justin left moments before. The man’s been around the block many times, he understands the forlorn look Justin gave Brian right before he exited. And he understands, even more, the lost confusion etched in Brian’s features.

 

“Yeah,” The guy says slowly, stuffing his hands awkwardly in his pocket. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. But, uh... don’t you think you should be going after the kid?”

 

“What?” Brian’s voice bounces off the hall walls, repeating the word over and over. Emphasizing Brian’s fear.

 

“I mean... uh... it’s not really my place to say anything, but--”

 

“You’re right, it’s not,” Brian snarls. They stare each other down and then Brian gives up with a long sigh. He shakes his head and shuts the loft door again, locking it before saying, “Come on. I’ll give you a ride back to Liberty.”

 

The man smiles softly. “Atta boy.”

 

 

Justin doesn’t go home. How can he, when everyone expects him to be with Brian doing... God knows what. What does he expect from Brian? Anything? Everything? 

 

Nothing?

 

No. Justin shakes his head, his hands rhythmlessly strum against the steering wheel. He doesn’t expect nothing. Not after a kiss like that. 

 

He licks his lips and imagines them still red, still bruised. Still crushed against Brian’s. 

 

“Fuck,” he says out loud, turning a sharp right. He stops in front of a nice apartment complex. 

 

_It’s only one-forty_ , Justin thinks, getting out of his car and quietly slamming his door. _Maybe she’s still awake_. The gravel under his feet crunch loudly and makes him slow his speed. This neighborhood is so...

 

Perfect.

 

All the apartments have names on the doors. Smith. Hines. Armstrong. The flower beds are creative and the lawns, impeccable. He wonders how anyone can live such boring lives. 

 

His finger pauses over the door bell, then he presses it. Waiting. Waiting. He presses again and the porch light flips on, followed, quickly, by a half-asleep Daphne.

 

“Justin?” She squints. “What the... it’s two in the morning,” she says, stepping aside to let her friend in.

 

“Nah. Only one-forty four,” he grins.

 

“Is everyone okay? Is it Lindsay? Your mom?”

 

“No. Nothing like... that.” They stand together in Daphne’s living room. He feels weighted under her open gaze. “Aren’t you gonna offer me tea or something?”

 

She grins, “You want tea?”

 

“No. Not really.” They settle on the couch, wrapping a blanket around each other. Daphne picks up the remote and turns the television on out of habit. When they were younger and needed to talk, they’d keep the television on as a distraction. 

 

“So...” She trails off, waiting for him to start. When he doesn’t respond, she asks, “It’s about Brian, right?”

 

Justin nods his head slowly. “Yeah.”

 

“You love him, right?” 

 

“I...” He trails off, staring blankly at the commercial for some waxing product. “I don’t know if it’s love. I just... I like him... lots. God, Daph. I really fucking like him.”

 

“Does he like you?” Her mind is flowing with the possibility of real romance for her best friend. 

 

“Yeah,” he all but whispers. “Probably. At least, I thought so.”

 

“Thought? As in... used to?”

 

“Well, he came to the house tonight. We kissed.” He looks up and grins, flashing her one of his exquisite smiles. “It was hot. But then Linds... God, she made such a big deal out of it. He left. And I became impatient, so I went to his place and...” He doesn’t continue, the edges of his mouth dipping into a small frown. 

 

“He was there with someone else?” Daphne asks, finishing his story for him.

 

“Yeah. He wasn’t at the loft, so I waited. He came home with this guy. You know, tall and handsome. So... different than me. I felt bad. For putting him on the spot. For... I don’t know, expecting something, I guess.”

 

“Expecting what?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Daphne studies Justin and then sighs. “Expecting romance?”

 

“A little,” he admits, flattening the blanket nervously. “But I shouldn’t,” he explains quickly. “I mean, everyone told me not to.”

 

Daphne smiles and scoots a little closer to Justin. “Ah, Just. That’s the way it works.”

 

“It?”

 

“Love. Romance. It’s what you want, you know, deep down. You want to be loved the way you’re supposed to be loved.”

 

“That kind of love, Daphne, the kind of love we read about, that’s not the kind of love I can have.”

 

“What not?” Daphne asks, frowning.

 

“I’m... well, I’m a fag, Daphne.”

 

“So?” She pulls away to look at him more closely. “We used to talk about our Prince Charming all the time in high school.”

 

A shadow passes over Justin’s face. “Yeah, that was before... Stuff like that, they sort of ruin life for you. I guess.”

 

“They ruin life for you or are supposed to?” Daphne asks, scooting closer to Justin and raking her fingers in his hair. “You need to get a haircut.”

 

Justin leans back into her touch. “I kinda wanted to grow it out,” he purrs. She makes a disgusted face and he laughs. “Not like... long, idiot. Just... longer.”

 

“That’d look nice.” She strokes Justin’s hair for a couple minutes and when she sees Justin relax completely, she says, “I think you need to just lay out everything on the table for Brian. Tell him what it is you want, what it is you need, what it is you’d like... What it is you don’t want, need, like... And let him decide if he’s up for the challenge.”

 

Justin snorts. “I know he isn’t up for it. No one is. I’m going to be a bachelor for the rest of my life. Hey, Daph? Marry me.”

 

Daphne erupts in a fit of giggles. “Sure, lemme just wake up Richard and tell him we’re getting a divorce.” They sit in silence, smiling at their joke until Daphne continues. “I don’t really think it’s fair that everyone’s making Brian’s decisions for him. Lindsay, his friends... even you. Just let him choose. Where’s the harm in that?”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Justin yawns. “I guess I’m afraid.”

 

“Of?”

 

“I’m afraid that if I give him the choice, he won’t choose me.”

 

“But at least you know. And at least you tried. I hate how passive you’ve become, Justin. I don’t mean... wimpy or anything... I mean... apathetic. Yeah. Apathetic. You’ve become so apathetic. Especially when it comes to guys. I want to see the Justin who goes after what he wants. Who won’t take no for an answer. Who’ll try, fail, and try again. That’s the Justin I love. And that’s the Justin Brian will love, too. I don’t know him well at all, but from what I’ve gathered, Brian likes people who take charge of their lives. I think that’s why he respects you. ‘Cause, even after all the shit you’ve been through, you’re still up and surviving each day. He’s a survivor, too. I know it.”

 

“God, Daph. This is beginning to sound like a Lifetime original.”

 

“It’s two in the morning and my best friend’s over, whining ‘cause he’s too scared to go for what he wants; what he knows he can get.”

 

Justin looks at her out of the corner of his eyes. “You really think I can get him?”

 

“Hell yeah.”

 

“Even though he doesn’t do boyfriends or... love?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“But--”

 

“Look, Justin. Is he worth it?”

 

“Worth what?”

 

“Everything.”

 

Justin sighs and leans back against the couch, kicking his feet to rest on her coffee table. “Yeah. I think so. I mean, I hope so. ‘Cause I so don’t want to repeat any of my past relationships. I’m ready for a change. Something different. Something better.”

 

“Then get out of my fucking apartment and go back to his place. Just... do it.”

 

Snorting, Justin stands up. “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

Justin walks over to her door. “Yeah. I have... some thinking to do.” He kisses her cheek affectionately. “Thanks.”

 

“I love you, Justin.” She stands in the doorway of her apartment until he’s turned the corner, a slight smile playing on her lips.

 

 

“Is Michael home?” Brian asks sheepishly, sticking his head into the small apartment and looking around. The kitchen light is the only one on, illuminating a pile of papers and books on the table.

 

“You do realize it’s two in the morning?” Ben asks.

 

“So... he’s sleeping?” The sound of defeat in Brian’s voice makes Ben sigh. He opens the door in invitation to Brian, who nervously enters the apartment.

 

Ben locks the door behind them. “I can use a break. C'm'n. I’ll make some coffee. Decaf, though. It’s too late for regular.”

 

“Yeah,” Brian follows him into the kitchen. “Thanks.” He sits down on a chair and begins to leaf through the papers on the table. “This for your class?”

 

Ben starts the coffee and joins Brian at the table. “Yes. I think they’ve stopped teaching grammar to students. I’m getting a headache from trying to figure out where one sentence ends and another begins. I’m glad you stopped by.” Brian looks away, staring into space and Ben can’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah.” He picks up one of the papers and begins to read it. Soon, the coffee is done brewing and they’re laughing together at one student’s poor attempt at a self-reflective essay. 

 

Ben places two mugs on the table and they both stir milk and sugar absentmindedly into their coffee. “So...” Ben trails off, cautious to start anything.

 

Brian brings the mug to his lips, gently blowing off the steam. “I just needed to... talk to Mikey,” Brian tells Ben, taking a sip.

 

“Want me to wake him up?” Ben asks, setting down his cup and getting ready to stand up. Brian reaches out a hand to stop him. “Well... I’m here... If you need to talk to someone...”

 

Brian rolls his eyes dramatically and picks up one of the papers again. Ben watches him momentarily and then begins to read a different essay. 

 

Half an hour later, the coffee is gone and Brian’s standing, stretching out the kinks in his body. “God. I’m so glad I’m not a teacher,” he tells Ben, picking up their mugs and placing them in the sink. The warm water runs off his hands soothingly and he wants to make it hotter.

 

“Brian...” Brian turns around to look at Ben, who’s gathering all the papers and piling them neatly into a folder. He purposely doesn’t look at Brian as he continues. “What’s going on? You seem so... subdued, I guess.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Brian turns around, resting against the back of the sink. “There’s no fooling you, Professor.” He smirks and then looks down at his wet hands, wiping them softly against his pants. 

 

“Well?” Ben asks abruptly, folding his arms across the chest in a very Michaelesque manner. Brian can’t help but smile. “What?” Ben’s suddenly self-conscious.

 

“When did you know? Was it like... boom?” Brian shifts uncomfortably on his feet. 

 

“When did I know wha--” But Ben cuts himself up. He tries not to react openly. Instead, he sits back down and gestures to the other chair. Reluctantly, Brian joins him at the table, determined to keep his distance and remain stoic. “I knew I wanted him, right from the beginning,” Ben starts slowly. “It was like ‘boom,’ but it wasn’t sure if it was love. Not until later. Not until he gave his little speech in my class and blew me out of the water with his integrity and honesty. That’s when I knew I loved him. But, physically, yeah, I wanted him. Right away. I felt... I was struck.”

 

Brian’s eyebrows crinkle together. “I could never think of Michael that way.”

 

“I know,” Ben reaches out to pat Brian’s hand. “And I thank you for that. Because if you did, even remotely, there would never be a chance for he and I. It’d be all you.”

 

Brian nods curtly. 

 

“Was it like... ‘boom’ for you?” Ben asks him timidly, staring openly at Brian, who looks like he’s ready to run. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. He’s... sweet. And even I can’t deny that he’s good looking.” Brian glares at him and Ben laughs. “But he’d have to be, to get your attention. I think that you should do what you need to do. Aren’t you always saying ‘no regrets’? I think if you don’t do this, you’ll regret it.”

 

“Do what, exactly?”

 

Ben pulls his lips into his mouth nervously. “I... I don’t really know. That’s up to you.”

 

Brian stares hungrily at Ben, as if Ben can give him all the answers. 

 

“I can’t tell you what to do. Just... be yourself...”

 

Brian smirks. “Sounds like some bullshit you’d find in Teen People.”

 

“Well, the best advice is usually the simplest. You should go home and think about what you want.” 

 

Brian nods slowly and then gets up. “Thanks,” he tells Ben softly before heading to the door. 

 

“Brian,” Ben stops him. “Just one more thing. If you don’t... feel... anything for him, don’t bother. It’d cause too much of a mess within our little family.”

 

Brian doesn’t react, just nods quickly and heads down the hall, Ben trailing him with his eyes until he’s out of sight. “Good luck!” He calls out, but closes the door before a neighbor can stick out her head to complain about the noise.

 

 

Justin circles Brian’s block for a couple minutes, stalling in front of the building, then peeling out, pressing the gas so quickly it grinds him into his seat. He stares up at Brian’s blackened windows, squinting to find movement. Nothing. 

 

He suddenly gets a tingling at the base of his neck. _Staaaalllkkkkkeeerrrrrr_ , a voice in the back of his head whispers. He blushes. God, is this what it’s come to? Driving around some guys building in the middle of the night, in hopes of getting just a glimpse, a mere glimpse, of him.

 

No.

 

Justin shakes his head and presses a hand to his eyes. God, no. Hell no is he going to do this. Resolved, Justin doesn’t even pause as he once again passes the front of the building. Instead, he heads down to Liberty. Glancing at the clock on his dashboard, he notices that it’s well past three-thirty. It should still be thumping. He won’t have to wallow in his pathetic misery alone. 

 

He decides on Woody’s. He needs a drink. And to think. Think about what Daphne said. Think about Brian. 

 

Think about what he wants. 

 

He orders a whisky on the rocks, lights up a cigarette, and thinks. 

 

But of course, this hurts his brain. He doesn’t want to have to think. He’s thought all his life. He just wants someone to tell him what to do. To tell him what he wants and show him how to get it. He wants easy. All he’s ever had is hard.

 

_Not that hard isn’t good_ , he grins, looking at the sexy bartender. But that’s not what he really wants.

 

So, okay, yeah. He knows what he wants.

 

Huffing to himself, Justin brings his glass to his lips. The ice clinks loudly as he empties the contents. He holds his hand out, signaling to the bartender. Just one more. Then he’ll lick his wounds and go back to Linds’. If he does it right, they won’t even know he came home in the middle of the night.

 

Shaking his head, Justin mentally kicks himself. He’s acting like he’s been dumped. Thanking the bartender, Justin places his drink on the small cocktail napkin in front of him. It’s wet and already ripping. Cheap.

 

Justin dips his index finger and runs it along the edge of his glass, hoping to make that eery wailing that comes from only really fine crystal. Instead, it just sounds like something skidding ; like wet rubber. Nowhere near the music he wants to hear.

 

“You think they’d use anything other than cheap glass here, Justin?” A now familiar voice asks him. Justin doesn’t even have to look to know that Brian has occupied the stool next to him, their bodies dangerously close.

 

“I’ve never made that noise before,” Justin explains, once again wetting his finger in preparation for his musical genius. 

 

Brian covers Justin’s hand with his own. “Spare us, please. It’s late.” Justin can hear the teasing in his voice and doesn’t take offense. He watches curiously as Brian leans over the bar, using his long arms to reach for something unseen. Sitting back on his stool, looking immensely proud of himself, Brian grins at Justin and holds out something metallic. Justin stares at the spoon in wonder.

 

“It’s for you,” Brian tells him, sighing when Justin’s eyes cloud over in confusion. “It’s for to make music with,” Brian’s voice takes on a childlike sarcasm. Finally frustrated, Brian places the spoon next to Justin’s glass and taps gently. A beautifully hallow sound whispers across the bar, almost muffled by the noises around them.

 

Brian watches, fascinated, as Justin’s eyes fill with awe. He beams at Brian, grabbing the spoon and tapping earnestly.

 

“How many of those have you had?” Brian asks, nodding to the drink.

 

“This is my second.” Justin taps a beat Brian thinks he recognizes. “Do you play an instrument?” Justin asks, looking up finally.

 

“Uh... I was taught the harmonica when I was really young. And can pluck out some shit on the piano. My mom used to make me take lessons at church. I’ve never really tried to be good at any of it.”

 

“Sounds better than anything I can do.”

 

Brian pulls out a cigarette, occupying himself. 

 

“I went to Daphne’s tonight,” Justin explains, stilling his movements. 

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. After I left your place.”

 

“Bet she wasn’t too happy about that.”

 

Shrugging, Justin resumes his tapping. “She’s used to it. Besides, I really needed to talk to her.”

 

Brian’s hand pauses before he places his cigarette to his lips. “Oh? About...”

 

“You, actually,” Justin smiles up at him unashamedly. 

 

“I see.” Brian tries to remain calm, but Justin notices the way his throat moves as he swallows hard.

 

“I just needed some friendly advice, is all. Don’t worry about it.” Justin pats his shoulder delicately, the spoon rutting against his neck. Justin doesn’t remove his hand when he says, “It’s too early for all this, huh?” He sighs.

 

Brian turns to Justin, his mind on overload from Justin’s hand on his shoulder. “For what?” He asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels.

 

“All this drama, I guess. I’m making a big deal out of what will probably turn out to be nothing. Daph said I should tell you what I expect. But how can I do that when I’m not even sure what it is I want from you. God, I don’t even know how I feel about you. I mean, I _think_ I know, but...” He takes the spoon and hits himself hard on the forehead. “Stupid. It’s too soon!”

 

Brian yanks the spoon out of Justin’s hand, gently turning Justin’s head to face him, and starts to caress the spot Justin attacked. “I talked to Ben tonight. He said... He said for him, with Michael, it was _boom_.”

 

“Boom?” Justin’s voice cracks, staring wildly into Brian’s eyes, trying to find... something.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah?” Justin leans forward, his lips so close to Brian’s. “Boom?” He closes the distance and kisses Brian lightly. Pulling away, Justin smiles softly. “Boom,” he repeats, then grabs Brian’s shoulders and starts an open mouthed kiss. It doesn’t take long for Brian to return the kiss.

 

Brian wraps his arms around Justin’s torso and tugs until Justin’s off the stool, standing in between his legs. Brian lifts his feet slightly and, using his ankles, locks Justin into place. 

 

It’s only when they start moaning frantically does Justin pull away. He studies Brian’s flushed cheeks, dark eyes, glistening mouth, and heaving chest and decides, right there, what he wants. 

 

He wants it all.

 

And he wants it with Brian.

 

But he already knew this, really, from the moment he saw Brian dancing at Babylon. He just needed the courage to admit it. And having Brian here, in his arms, gives him that. He thinks that with Brian, he can accomplish anything. No one’s ever made Justin feel that way before.

 

Justin can get used to feeling this way.

 

Happy.

 

And... in love?


	11. Invasion

The first thing Brian thinks when he wakes up is that his arm has fallen completely off. He tries to move it, but only succeeds in flailing his wrist around, wiggling his fingers uselessly. His eyes open as he registers this difference and glances at the offending limb only to find a sleeping blond weighing it down.

 

He’s momentarily confused. And frightened. He wracks his brain and then... smiles.

 

A wide, unashamed smile. 

 

He tries, once again, to move his arm. Justin lets out a small groan as he feels the muscles of the arm under his body flex and shift. Instead of moving away, Justin rolls over and covers half of Brian’s body with his warmth. He smiles sleepily, never opening his eyes and wraps his arms around Brian’s naked torso. 

 

The feel of skin alerts his senses and suddenly, his eyes are wide open, looking around the room in a uncomfortable daze. His eyes land on Brian, who watches his pupils adjust as Justin becomes more aware of his surroundings. 

 

Justin’s hair is standing every which way, puffing out horridly in the back and pressed flat near his ears. Brian brings a hand up to his head and tries, hopelessly, to flatten it. “You need a haircut,” Brian repeats Daphne’s words from last night. 

 

Justin shakes his head. “I’m growing it out.”

 

Brian doesn’t seem to mind this idea. He continues playing with Justin’s hair, giving up on flattening it and instead, running his hands through the small, loose knots, feathering it more. Justin moans and opens his lips slightly. “God, I love it when people play with my hair,” he says huskily, smiling up at Brian.

 

Giving Justin’s hair one final tug, Brian lifts his body, forcing Justin to sit up quickly. “Oh God!” Justin moans, clutching the sides of his head. “The room!” He gasps. “It’s... spinning. Oh. Make it stop, please!” 

 

Brian barks out a laugh. “That’s what you get for insisting that you can drink me under the table, Sunshine.”

 

Justin puts a finger to his lips. “Shhhh. Morning time is quiet time.”

 

Brian snorts. “You’re such a baby,” he teases, lightly slapping Justin’s back before sliding off the bed.

 

“Where are you going?” Justin asks, forgetting his dizziness.

 

“To take a shower. The munchers are having that brunch today, remember? We’ve got to be there looking shiny and new.” 

 

“Can I...” Justin starts to ask, but shakes his head and gropes for the covers, pulling them over himself as his cheeks flush red.

 

“What is it?” Brian asks. He looks at Justin closely and can’t help but smile. From Justin’s reaction alone, Brian knows what Justin wants. “Want to join me?” Justin’s off the bed and next to him before Brian even blinks. Laughing, Brian pushes Justin towards the bathroom, saying, “I guess that’s a yes.”

 

In the shower, Brian watches greedily as Justin turns away from him, letting the water cascade down his pale, naked body. His eyes focus on Justin’s slim waist, surprisingly muscular legs, and... He feels his body react.

 

Last night they were too inebriated to have sex, but this morning... He reaches out for Justin, enveloping him in his long arms, pressing his body tightly against Justin’s. Justin turns his head to look at Brian, his eyes full of questions. Brian licks his lips and smirks, causing Justin to blush. He reaches down and slowly ascends his hand when Justin steps away. They stand on opposite sides of the stall, Brian confused and Justin...

 

Scared. 

 

Brian recognizes that look. It resembles something he’s seen on his own face many times before. Something hidden, dark, and private. 

 

“Justin...” Brian begins, taking a small step toward him.

 

Justin shakes his head and offers a smile. “It’s just that... I wasn’t lying when I said that I haven’t bottomed in a long time. I haven’t.”

 

Brian tilts his head. “Well, I... uh... I _don’t_ bottom.” He sighs, “Well... this is gonna... be problematic.”

 

“I’m not ready,” Justin whispers, squinting his eyes and scrunching his nose. He turns away from Brian and slumps his shoulders in defeat. “It’s okay,” he tells the man, stepping toward the shower door. “I’ll leave.”

 

“What?” Brian’s lost. “No. We don’t have to... fuck...” This isn’t what he wants. Not at all and it makes him frown deeply.

 

“It’s okay, Brian. I guess, fundamentally, we’re just too different.”

 

“You think that I’d insist on fucking you even though you’ve said no? Is that what you would do if I said no? Fuck me anyway?”

 

“No,” Justin’s voice raises. “No. Of course not.” 

 

The sound of the water hitting the tile floor almost muffles Brian’s whispered, “Then we’re not that different from one another.”

 

Justin’s eyes narrow as he regards Brian with interest. “Brian?” He asks, pausing until Brian’s looking at him. “What is it you want?”

 

“From what?” Brian responds hoarsely, clearing his throat and nervously clenching-unclenching his fists.

 

“From this, I guess. From... from me.”

 

Brian finally meets Justin’s eyes. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, shaking his head from side to side. Justin can see the wheels turning. “No one’s...” Brian pauses, trying to find the right words. “No one’s ever asked me that before. Usually it’s... what they want; what they need. I’ve never... never really thought about what I want.” He swallows hard. “I’ve never really thought about it before.”

 

Justin lets him stand there in silence for a minute before he asks, “Well, why’d you take me here last night and not home?”

 

Grinning, Brian says, “‘Cause the munchers would’ve flipped if I dropped you on their doorstep drunk and singing show tunes.”

 

“I was not singing show tunes.”

 

Brian lifts an eyebrow and throws Justin a half-smile. “You’re right. I wouldn’t exactly call what you were doing last night singing either.”

 

The stare at each other and then start giggling. The water becomes cold and they both are suddenly aware of their surroundings. Laughing, they jump out of the shower and into warm towels. 

 

“That’s one of the most serious conversations I’ve ever had in a shower before,” Brian tells Justin, his voice muffled as he leans over to dry his hair.

 

Justin watches the muscles on Brian’s back move as he towels his hair. Smiling wryly, Justin walks up to Brian, placing a hand on his bent back and starts caressing the skin. Brian’s movements still and slowly, he stands up, turning around to face Justin. “What?” He asks cautiously. 

 

Shaking his head, Justin smiles. “You’re... amazing.”

 

“I know,” Brian leans down and kisses Justin’s cheek, turning away quickly. He’s not about to admit it, but he’s embarrassed. 

 

Justin follows him into the bedroom. He stares openly at Brian’s naked body. “You know...” Justin says, his voice low. Brian’s curious eyes meet his own. “Just ‘cause I’m not ready to let you fuck me doesn’t mean I can’t blow you.” Justin has to stifle a giggle as Brian’s eyes widen and he licks his lips expectantly. “How does that sound?” He asks, breathing warm air onto Brian’s face.

 

Looking down at his growing cock, Brian grins and raises his arms in offering. “That sounds fabulous.”

 

But right as Justin slides down to his knees, a loud bang resounds through the loft. “Brian?” A voice calls out. The two look at each other and, sighing, Justin gathers his clothing and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

 

 

To his credit, Michael does ring. He waits, impatiently, for a couple seconds and when he doesn’t get a response, huffs indigently and presses the code. The door buzzes open and he avoids the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time. He has his key out before he even reaches the top step, deciding not to knock and instead, unlocks the loft door and walks right in.

 

He’s been doing it for years. 

 

Brian hurries out of the bedroom, hair still wet from his shower, towel secure around his waist. “Michael,” he sputters. “What the fuck?”

 

Michael rushes over to him, carefully inspecting him. “Ben said you needed to talk to me last night. God, I was so pissed that he didn’t wake me.”

 

Brian shrugs and glances toward his bedroom. “That’s okay. Ben helped out. Look, Mikey,” he begins, placing an arm around Michael’s shoulder. “Now isn’t such a good time.”

 

“But Brian,” Michael argues, moving away from Brian’s grasp. “You’re the one who came to me, remember? Since I’m here, we might as well go to the munchers together.”

 

Brian shakes his head slowly. “No. I’ll leave later.”

 

Curious, Michael folds his hands on his hips and stares intently. “What the fuck’s going on?” A noise comes from the bedroom and Michael smiles. “Oh. I get it. Well, I’ll wait ‘til you dispose of your trick. Don’t worry about that. I don’t mind.”

 

Brian looks trapped. He brings his hands up to his hair and weaves them through a few times before he shakes his head. “No. That’s not gonna happen this time, Mikey. Just go. I’ll come over later.”

 

Michael’s face falls, a deep frown immediately replaces his smile. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’ll talk to you about it late--” But Michael’s already heading over to the bedroom, looking in. 

 

“Is he hot?”

 

Brian lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah. You could say that.”

 

Lifting a brow, Michael walks back to Brian. “Have fun last night?” He asks, noticing the carefree smile playing on Brian’s lips. “He musta been something special.”

 

“Yeah. He is.”

 

Michael frowns at Brian’s word choice. He notices the bathroom door and a shadow underneath it. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?” Michael asks, squinting, as if he can make out the shadow’s form.

 

“Yeah.” Brian watches the door with Michael for a moment, seeming both eager and uncertain. “Thanks for dropping by, Mikey,” Brian tells Michael, ushering him, finally, to the front door. “Tell the girls I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

 

“But--”

 

Brian leans in and kisses Michael’s cheek, grinning. “You’re a great friend, you know that?” He sounds, well, sincere and that causes Michael to smile broadly and blush happily. “The best, actually. You’re... my best friend.”

 

Michael’s smile falters. He glances again at the bathroom door then back to Brian. “You’re my... best friend, too.”

 

They leave it at that. Michael leans against the loft door for a moment, listening to the muffled silence from inside before pushing off and pressing the button for the lift. Perhaps he’s hoping that Brian will change his mind. Or perhaps he’s just waiting to see this trick that Brian seems so... enamored with. 

 

Snorting to himself, Michael walks into the lift and shakes his head. He can’t wait to tell the gang about this. 

 

Brian, letting a trick spend the night and looking so happy about it? Impossible. Yet, he saw it with his own two eyes. Hell, he felt it. It radiated off of Brian, pulsating. It rubs off on him, because Michael’s now humming a mindless tune.

 

He stops and thinks briefly of Justin. 

 

“Poor kid,” he mutters, climbing into his car. He wonders how Justin will handle this and is, for a moment, sad. For Justin. Because he’s had first hand experience with Brian’s never-gonna-happen flirtation. He knows that feeling of hope--desperate and useless.

 

Ever since Justin’s become so _chummy_ with Brian, he’s felt extreme dislike for the man. Not that he hates him. No, Michael’s not the type of person that can ever truly hate another human being. But, he dislikes the potential of Justin. He still remembers Brian talking so... lovingly about Justin. Justin being smart and funny and... hot. Well, Brian’s never actually said that, but Michael’s not blind. Justin’s very good-looking. He can’t imagine how many gym hours it’d take him to get an ass even close to Justin’s pert bubble butt. 

 

It’s that they’re friends. Michael would rather them lovers than friends. But...

 

He shakes his head. Justin will obviously be put on the back burner now that Brian’s found _someone_. 

 

God, that sounds so weird.

 

He wonders how long it will last. 

 

Michael’s hand pauses above his ignition. He feels his heart tug, but then he thinks of Ben and smiles. He unrolls his window and stares up at Brian’s loft before finally starting his car and driving away.

 

 

“Where’s Sunshine?” Is the first thing out of Debbie’s mouth as they all sit around the living room, cocktails in hand.

 

Lindsay growls something undetectable, but calms down when Melanie places a hand around her waist. 

 

“He went out last night. Never came home,” she tells them. Emmett opens his mouth to say something, but is shot down by the look Melanie gives him. “We’re not worried, though. We know where he is.”

 

Debbie, surprisingly, leaves it at that.

 

Brian saunters in only moments after they all find seats at the dining room table, followed shortly by Justin.

 

“Don’t you two know how to arrive anywhere on time?” Mel asks, shaking her head as she straps Gus into his high chair. 

 

“We’re here,” Brian explains, plopping down on a seat next to his son. “Isn’t that what matters?”

 

Melanie rolls her eyes as she pushes Gus in. “I sure hope that Gus doesn’t take after you.”

 

“Be lucky if he does,” Brian smiles, making a ridiculous face at Gus, who giggles relentlessly. “I’m perfect.”

 

Debbie snorts along with Melanie. 

 

“Hey, Boy Wonder,” Michael says. “Where’d you go last night? Your mothers were worried about you.”

 

Justin’s face pales for all of two seconds. Long enough to catch Debbie’s attention, who, turning away from her conversation with Ted, asks, “Yeah. The girls said you didn’t come home.”

 

The table quiets as they watch Justin’s face go from abnormally pale to obnoxiously pink. “I was... at a friend’s,” he mutters, twisting his napkin in his lap, refusing to look up.

 

The gang tease him a bit. “Oooh, a boyfriend” and “Did you get some?” and “What’s his name?” But they soon tire of Justin’s refusal to get riled up. 

 

Eventually, Michael turns to Brian and gives him the fourth degree about the trick that wasn’t kicked out. Brian thwarts their high-pitched squeals and shakes his head ruefully, never divulging a thing.


	12. Invasion

Ooo-kay, so this story has taken a turn from where I originally intended it to go. I’m writing it and thinking, “WTF?! What the hell’s this?!” But, this is how it’s supposed to go, I guess. Bear with me. One more chapter... I think... >.<

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Brian remembers Justin telling him once that he comes with baggage. And Brian’s okay with this. Hell, everyone comes with baggage; his own life hasn’t been a walk in the park. It’s just that he never realizes how much baggage Justin comes with until he tries to fuck him.

 

It happens once. A couple weeks after the brunch. He’s tired of waiting and confused by the signals Justin keeps giving him. So, he throws caution to the wind and is shot down.

 

Yes, he, Brian Kinney, is rejected.

 

And it pisses him off, still! Three days later. He’s heard neither hide nor hair from Justin and at first, he’s glad. Damn right the kid better be laying low. But as the hours tick by, as his loft becomes unbearably lonely, he starts regretting his actions.

 

This whole relationship thing... it’s a bad idea. He knows this now. He knew it from their first kiss. No, not the soft, hesitant one on the muncher’s porch. The heated, crazy, hash-filled one they shared a couple weeks later. Brian can still recall Justin’s eagerness to share. His heat, his mouth, his tongue, his saliva, his... body. 

 

Throwing his pen across his office, Brian mutters a string of explicatives.

 

No! Not his body. Anything but that!

 

Brian’s pants tighten just thinking about Justin’s lithe body, that’s how bad he’s got it for him. And he knows what a fucking sex-kitten Justin is. The way he talks about sex! The way... the way he sucks Brian’s cock. Fuck. That... haste to taste and touch and lick and be. In all his experiences, Brian has never been affected by a blow job as much as he has by one of Justin’s. 

 

He bends over to pick up his pen. 

 

...Bending over...

 

_He_ can easily do it. He can. Brian knows that they can correct the whole intercourse issue by a simple “fuck me, Justin.” But he won’t. Not after all those years; all those years as the predatory top. As the Stud of Liberty Avenue. As Brian fucking Kinney. He’s worked hard to be the top he is today. He could... God, he could fucking rock Justin’s fucking world if the kid would only let him! 

 

“Fucking shit!” He bellows, standing up straight and once again tossing his pen across the room. 

 

He needs to get laid so bad that it hurts. Literally. The strain in his crotch is driving him insane. But, he’s already had two tricks today and he still feels unsatisfied. The first trick’s body was disappointment enough. It was so unlike Justin’s. He could hardly keep his erection. He didn’t even bother undressing the second trick. 

 

Brian walks over to his desk and tentatively pick up his phone to dial a newly memorized number. It rings, over and over, until the voicemail picks up. Justin’s surprisingly deep voice whispers in his ear to leave a message, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Brian Kinney doesn’t beg.

 

Grabbing his wallet, Brian marches out of his office. “I’m going for lunch!” He yells over his shoulder before stomping into the elevator and angrily presses a button, mashing it multiple times. The two women in the elevator huddle in the corner together, glancing, half in terror, half in wonder, at Brian.

 

He doesn’t know why he chooses the diner--

 

Okay, yes, he does know. It’s because he has a small glimmer of hope that he’ll see Justin there. And that Justin will see the error of his ways and cry out for Brian to take him and fuck him backwards to next thursday and then flip him over and do it again. 

 

_That’s_ why he chooses the diner. He can feel his face melt when he looks around to find the diner decently crowded, but void of said blond. 

 

“Brian?” He looks up to find Daphne, a frown stenciling worry lines around her mouth.

 

He offers her a sideways grin and motions for her to join him. She slides in wearily and he knows, at that moment, that Justin has talked to her. 

 

“So, I made a mistake,” Brian mumbles after ordering. He can’t take anymore of Daphne staring at him. “So sue me.”

 

“A big mistake,” she agrees.

 

He wishes he ordered some coffee, at least it would give him something to fiddle with as he remains under Daphne’s angry scrutiny.

 

“But, goddamnit, I’ve waited a long time. I’ve been patient.”

 

Huffing, Daphne leans back into the booth. “A few weeks isn’t being patient--”

 

“It is for me!” He nearly yells. Half the diner hushes as they regard Brian and Daphne with excited curiousness. 

 

Their sandwiches arrive and they both are grateful for the distractions. Brian’s mood has gone from angry to ashamed in less than five minutes. It’s a new record for him, he thinks. The being ashamed part, not the mood shift. He’s always been a bit... bipolar. Lindsay accused him of this once in college, after he made fun of her shamelessly when they first met. “You’re nothing but a bipolar faggot!” were her exact words. Brian knew that they’d be great friends.

 

“Besides,” Daphne begins. He watches as she delicately cuts her sandwich into quarters. “It’s not like you guys are monogamous. Why not just fuck someone else?”

 

Brian’s eyebrows fly off his forehead when she says this. “What makes you think I haven’t already?”

 

“Oh, I know you have.”

 

He frowns. 

 

“Look, Brian,” Daphne says. She waits until he does, literally, look at her. “How much of his past has Justin told you?”

 

Shrugging, Brian replies, “A lot. I mean, enough. I don’t know. I know about his childhood and his dad disowning him. I know about the bashing...”

 

Daphne nods and then corrects herself, “I meant about his past relationships.”

 

Brian drops his sandwich back on his plate, picking up a napkin to wipe his hands. “I know that the few he’s had were bad. I know that his last boyfriend hit him.” This still angers him, because he knows what it’s like to be in that sort of situation and feel helpless against the attacks. It’s moments like those that aided in defining who he is today.

 

“Then you should know why it’s so hard for Justin to bottom,” Daphne says matter-of-factly.

 

“I just... I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

 

Tilting her head and biting back a grin, Daphne asks, “Then why don’t _you_ bottom?”

 

How do you explain to a straight woman the dynamics of the top/bottom mentality? Instead, Brian grimaces and pretends that his sandwich is the most interesting specimen of food he’s ever seen. Daphne shakes her head sadly and continues eating her own meal, only occasionally stopping to study Brian. 

 

She watches a myriad of emotions cross his face. Justin’s right: on the outside, Brian seems so reserved and stoic. It’s all in the eyes. 

 

“If you were just patient--”

 

“I’ve been patient enough,” Brian bites out, immediately regretting his words.

 

Daphne sits up and glares at Brian. Dropping the last of her sandwich on her plate, she takes out a twenty and throws it on the table. Sliding out of the booth, Daphne stops only to turn to Brian and say, “I’m glad he didn’t put out,” she grinds the words bitterly. “You’re not worth it.” Shaking her head one last time, she walks away, waving casually at Debbie before leaving the diner. 

 

Brian sinks into his seat. Justin was right, it’s too early for all this drama. But, now--now it’s too late to stop it. Shit! He’s in shit creek.

 

“What is up with you guys lately?” Debbie demands, placing her hands on her hips, snapping her gum anxiously. 

 

“What?” Brian isn’t really in the mood to banter.

 

“First Sunshine comes in looking like someone walked all over his grave. And now you look ‘bout ready to scream. Even that sweet girl, Daphne, seemed so--”

 

“Forget about it, Deb.” Brian gets up, adding to Daphne’s twenty. “Must be the weather. Keep the change.” 

 

“Hey!” Debbie calls out. She jogs up to him, a huge grin plasters her face. “How’s your man?”

 

“What?”

 

“The trick that you didn’t kick out? The one Michael was telling us about...”

 

Brian sucks in a breath, letting it out, he slowly says, “There’s no one, Deb.”

 

 

Justin’s helping Melanie and Lindsay redecorate Gus’ room. They were going to ask Brian, but seeing how down Justin’s been the past few days, they changed their minds. Justin hasn’t told them anything, but they know, when he’s ready, he’ll explain. At least, that’s what they’re hoping for. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell with Justin. He’ll open up about the oddest things. Yet, sometimes it’s the simplest explanation that will have him pensive and resistant.

 

They’re hoping that this whole Brian thing won’t be one of those moments. 

 

Lindsay stands back to watch Justin rip off the wallpaper boarder hastily. She watches how sloppy he’s being, how imprecise and inartistic his hands are. “Jesus, Justin. Take the whole wall with you,” she practically screeches as a piece of paint the size of her head drifts lazily to the floor.

 

Justin stops and sighs. He looks down at his angry cousin and says, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m in the mood for this.” He climbs down the ladder and wipes his hands on the tarp covering Gus’ dresser. “My brain’s all over the place today. Sorry.”

 

“What’s the matter, Justin?” Melanie asks softly before he can reach the door. He turns around, ready for a death match, but only confronts a look of genuine concern on her face.

 

Justin opens his mouth, seems to think the better of it, but then blurts out before he even has time to register what he’s saying, “It’s Brian.”

 

Lindsay, who’s halfway up the ladder, practically jumps off, throwing the tool she has in her hand to the floor. “I knew it! Mother fucker! I’m going to kill him.” She makes her way to the door, when Justin stops her.

 

“It’s not really him, it’s me, Linds. I swear. I’m the one not cut out for this. He’s been trying.”

 

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” She demands.

 

“‘Cause you know Brian. But, trust me on this one, this is all me.”

 

“So, you’re saying Brian had nothing to do with you behaving like a bumbling idiot the past couple days? That whatever problems you two are having is all _your_ fault?”

 

“Well, no... Not entirely.”

 

“I knew it and I’m gonna kill him!”

 

Justin rolls his eyes. “If you’re going to behave like some deranged lunatic, then fine. But, shouldn’t you hear all the facts first?”

 

Melanie snickers. “You think she’s bad now, you should’ve seen her when she was pregnant.”

 

“Oh, and you’re one to talk!” Lindsay laughs. 

 

Justin breaks the mood completely by saying, “I won’t let him fuck me.”

 

The two women turn their heads to stare openly at Justin. “What?” Melanie practically whispers. 

 

“He wants to, but I just can’t seem to let go.”

 

“Wait...” Lindsay’s having a hard time understanding. “You mean... you’ve guys... It’s been almost a month!”

 

“You know, Lindsay,” Melanie starts. “Most people like to wait. To get to know each other before jumping into bed.”

 

“Yeah, but this isn’t ‘most people.’ This is Brian Kinney we’re talking about. I can’t believe he would agree to no sex.”

 

Justin shrugs his shoulder and slumps down on Gus’ bed. “I never told him no sex. I just... I asked him to wait to fuck me and he agreed is all.”

 

“What?” Lindsay asks again. Her mind can’t seem to fit around the concept of Brian Kinney waiting for sex. 

 

“But I blew it all when I sort of... pushed him away the other night.”

 

Lindsay watches the torment on Justin’s face and takes a deep breath before saying, “Justin...” Justin looks up. “If this is the only problem in your... relationship with... Brian... Then, I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here. You should be there, working this out with him, before you lose him. I’ve known Brian a lot longer than I care to admit and he’s never, I repeat, _never_ gone without sex.”

 

Shaking his head, Justin explains, “No. We’re not... monogamous or anything. I mean, he’s had sex since we’ve gotten together. Just... not with me.”

 

Lindsay laughs despite herself. “Duh. I mean, no offense, but I can’t imagine Brian ever being monogamous. Ever. Though, I can’t imagine Brian wasting his time with you if there’s no sex--”

 

“Lindsay!” Melanie admonishes. Turning to Justin, she tries to explain, “What Lindsay means is that it’s obvious Brian wants to be with you, otherwise he wouldn’t have even bothered. He’s a fuck and go kind of guy. So, the fact that you guys haven’t fucked and he’s still with you... Well, that’s really too much to grasp right now.”

 

Justin shakes his head. “But... what if it’s the fact that I won’t put out that’s keeping him here. What if, once I do let him fuck me, he moves on to bigger and better things.” 

 

“I’ve never liked Brian, Justin,” Melanie explains. “But, I do know him. And I know he doesn’t play hard to get and he never goes after someone. He’s not the type of person who will wait around. If someone won’t fuck him, Brian will just move on to the next best thing, no questions asked. I think you’re placing too many of your past insecurities on Brian. Just... trust your intuition.”

 

Standing up, Justin asks, “Do you mind if I bail on you guys? I need to get out.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and walks out the room. They hear his bedroom door shut somewhere out in the hall.

 

Lindsay turns to Melanie, a huge grin plastered on her face. “God, do you know how much I love you?”

 

 

Justin watches Brian from the second floor of Babylon. It’s so much like that first night he saw Brian. 

 

Justin can’t help but notice that Brian has yet to make a trip to the back room. He’s watched as potential tricks lean in, lick Brian’s neck, bite Brian’s lips, whisper naughty words into Brian’s ear, only to receive a curt shake of Brian’s head as an answer. 

 

This time, though, his beer isn’t cold. It’s empty. He shakes the bottle, hoping the movement will cause some hidden liquor to appear, but the bottle remains empty. He sighs and places it on the floor next to his feet. The crouched position he’s in gives him a better view of Brian’s face. 

 

Bored. He looks... bored. And for some secret, selfish reason this makes Justin really happy. 

 

A pair of black tennis shoes knock his bottle. Startled, Justin falls on his ass. Looking up, Justin sees Michael, who holds out his hand to help Justin up. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch Brian pick up guys?” He asks, reaching around to straighten Justin’s clothing. 

 

“Don’t you,” Justin asks bitterly. 

 

“Touché.” Justin moves away from him, but Michael stops him, holding out two beers. “Wait. I got you one. Thought we could have a drink together.”

 

Justin’s suspicious and he lifts the bottle in the light, inspecting it.

 

“I’m not gonna poison you or anything, Boy Wonder. Here,” he takes the bottle out of Justin’s hands and opens it. “There ya go. See? It wasn’t even opened.”

 

Justin reluctantly accepts the beer, never once offering a word of thanks. They both stare down at Brian, watching as he dances and declines. 

 

“What’s up with him tonight?” Michael asks, gazing at his best friend in wonder. Justin merely shrugs and takes a huge sip of his beer. “Don’t drink it too quickly. You don’t want to be drunk before you’ve even danced with the man,” Michael says softly, taking the half empty bottle out of Justin’s hands.

 

Justin starts to nod, but then realizes what it is Michael said. “What?” He asks.

 

“It’s you, isn’t it? I get it.”

 

“What?” The liquor is making Justin’s brain fuzzy.

 

“You were the one at Brian’s loft that day. You’re the trick that didn’t leave. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way you guys act with each other. I get it.”

 

Justin swallows hard. “We... we weren’t trying to hide it or anything...”

 

“No? Then what were you trying to do? Wait for the opportune moment?” Michael’s voice is borderline mean. Taking a deep breath, Michael apologizes, saying, “No. I’m... sorry. It’s just going to take a while for me to get used to you guys... being together or whatever. I thought you were an usurper.”

 

Justin can’t help but giggle at this. “What?” He asks, astonished.

 

Michael has the decency to blush. “Well, yeah. I mean, from the moment you guys met it was like... I don’t know... an explosion...”

 

“Like... boom?” Justin helps. 

 

“Yeah! Boom! That’s a good word for it. It’s like, I knew you guys were gonna be friends... if not something more. And that really pissed me off. ‘Cause _I’m_ Brian’s best friend. Not some blond twink he met a few months ago.”

 

“I could never take your place, Michael.”

 

“I know that! God. I know. But, still... It’s hard to watch your best friend, the man who’s insisted ever since you’ve known him, that love is bullshit... that relationships don’t work out... and here he is, falling for his friend’s cousin with the cute bubble butt and troubled past.”

 

“You think I have a cute bubble butt?” Justin teases Michael.

 

“Fuck off. You know what I mean. So, I’ve accepted it. I mean, first I had to figure it out. And then after that, I had to get used to it. So, don’t fuck it up. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but you’d better get that cute bubble butt down there and fuck him like there’s no tomorrow.”

 

“I would fuck him, if he’d let me.”

 

Michael turns to Justin. “You know... Sometimes sacrifices have to made. You should... you should...”

 

“What? Ask him to fuck me in the back room?”

 

“If that’ll make both of you happy, then yes. Hell yeah.” Michael pauses and follows Justin’s longing gaze to Brian. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“You’ve already interfered this much.”

 

“Have you guys fucked?”

 

Justin slams down his beer bottle so hard, Michael’s surprised it doesn’t break. “Why’s it always about sex with you guys?”

 

“It’s not. It’s not. I was just wondering.”

 

“Well, there’s your answer.”

 

They stand in uncomfortable silence, watching as Brian is tempted by a short brunette with a nipple ring. “I’ve never been fucked by Brian. I used to think that that’s the one thing I wanted in life. So, now that I meet you, and you don’t want Brian to fuck you... I can’t help but think you’re insane.”

 

“I do.”

 

“What?”

 

“I do want Brian to fuck me. God, Michael. I want it so bad. Sometimes, when I’m lying in my bed at night, alone and I’ll think about him, you know? About his cock and my ass and... God, I get so fucking hard. Once won’t just satisfy me. On nights like that, I just keep going. You can’t even begin to imagine how much laundry I do.” He pauses and they share similar grins. No, actually, Michael probably can imagine how much laundry he does. “But then... when we’re together and he’s touching me... At first I get so excited and then I start to think... God, what if history repeats itself? What if I give myself to this amazing man and... he hurts me?” The last few words are forced whispers and it takes a moment for Michael to register what Justin says.

 

Michael’s eyes widen. “Look, Justin. I can’t promise that Brian won’t hurt you emotionally. He’s... well, he hasn’t had a lot of practice being in a relationship. None, actually. But, physically? Brian will never, never ever, hurt you. I can promise you that. He won’t ever hurt you in a way that makes you bleed or bruise or break...physically.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I would never be friends with someone like that!” Michael’s breathing heavily and resists the urge to grab Justin and shake him as hard as he can. 

 

Justin nods, taking in the sincerity of Michael’s voice, the cracking of his words. He once again looks down at Brian, takes a deep breath, and pushes away from the railing.


	13. Invasion

Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you guys enjoy this. Whew. Man.

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Brian doesn’t know how to dance, but at least he has rhythm. And sex appeal. What Brian lacks in talent he more than makes up for in attraction. At the bottom of the stairs, Justin has a clear view of Brian’s backside. He sways more than dances, swiveling and pivoting his hips intoxicatingly. Justin is mesmerized by the way Brian’s pants slide, ever so slowly, down Brian’s waist. When Brian raises his arms, Justin can see a hint of flesh. And it’s enough to drive him wild. 

 

Justin licks his upper lip, tasting the salt of his sweat. He can’t decide if it’s the heat emanating off the grinding bodies that’s making him sweat, or Brian’s sexy swagger.

 

See? This is what he was talking about with Michael! He wants Brian so bad. So bad. What the fuck is his problem?

 

Well, his problems are too numerous to count. Too deep to erase. Too painful to forget.

 

Fuck. He’s fucked up.

 

If only he can find a way to tell Brian just how fucked up he is without scaring the man off completely...

 

Brian turns profile to dance with the man next to him. Or, to grind with the man next to him. Justin can see the man’s mouth drop open as Brian’s constant pressure against his groin starts to affect him. Justin’s own body begins to react and he’s not even the one being teased. 

 

Brian glances quickly in his direction before turning back to his dance partner.

 

Okay, so... maybe he is the one being teased.

 

After a while, Brian tires of his dance partner and moves away from him, closer to Justin, but he doesn’t take the initiative to join him. Instead, he nods at him slightly, leaving the decision up to Justin.

 

And after the shit they went through a couple nights ago, it’s no wonder. 

 

Justin’s face twists in embarrassment. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Justin slides in front of Brian, taking in his rhythm and pace before joining him. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts.

 

Brian looks down at Justin through his long eyelashes. “Sorry’s bullshit.” 

 

Justin shrugs. “You’re probably right. But I feel regret all the same.”

 

Brian stops moving and opens his eyes wide enough for Justin to see that he’s totally free of drugs. “No apologies.” He lifts a hand and cups Justin’s face. “No regrets.”

 

Leaning into the touch, Justin can hardly whisper, “Ever?”

 

Shrugging, Brian removes his hand and sways his hips again. “I saw you talking to Mikey.”

 

Justin steps closer and starts to dance, noticing how much of Brian’s attention is focusing on the way his body is moving. “He’s... on to us.”

 

Brian glances up at the scaffolding. Michael’s no longer there, but that doesn’t mean he’s not watching. “Hey,” Brian says suddenly, placing his arms gingerly around Justin’s shoulders. “This is the first time we’ve danced together. You’re...” Brian eyes him up and down. “You’re good.”

 

Blushing, Justin gives the appropriate response. “S’are you.”

 

“Yeah,” Brian snorts. “Right.” He pulls Justin a little bit closer to him. “I shouldn’t have... pushed you so hard the other night.” 

 

Justin looks away.

 

“I mean, I know that when you’re ready... I don’t know what happened... I lost control...”

 

“It happens, Brian,” Justin cuts him off, a bit uncomfortable with where this conversation’s heading.

 

“Not to me. I _never_ lose control. But around you, I can’t even... Never mind.”

 

Curious, Justin asks, “Around me you can’t what?”

 

“Nothing,” Brian looks... embarrassed. He tries to distract Justin by running his hands through his soft, blond hair. 

 

Justin won’t let it go. “You can’t what?”

 

Brian looks around, to check if someone’s listening is Justin’s guess, before he leans forward. “Around you... I can’t even see straight.” Justin slows his dancing, trying to focus on Brian’s words. “I saw you at Babylon that night and I was like... whoa. And then I met you at Linds’ and you came outside with me and I was like... whoa. And then I went with you to the hospital and I was like... whoa. I didn’t even know what that meant. Hell, I still don’t. I just know that every time I’m around you... I’m like... whoa. I can’t even really function properly. It’s hard for me to focus sometimes on your words ‘cause my mind is working a mile a minute... thinking about you and all the things I could do to you if you’d only let me. And then I feel really bad about that. But, fuck... never mind... I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. This is all too new for me. I don’t think I’m ever going to be good at this.” 

 

By now, Justin’s stilled all his movement completely, instead, he’s just staring up at Brian in wonder. 

 

“See? Now you’re thinking I’m insane. Fuck. I probably am. It’s just that... I’ve never... I’ve never wanted someone as much as you.” He sees Justin back away slightly. “I don’t mean sexually,” he insists, pulling Justin back to him. “I mean, well, yeah, hell yeah I want you sexually. Who wouldn’t? But I mean... Do I really have to say this?” Brian sucks his lips into his mouth.

 

“It’ll probably help,” Justin whispers.

 

“I don’t know what this means or anything, but it’s like... I’m making accommodations for you. Not in a bad way, I guess. Just shit I’ve never imagined myself doing before you came around. Like... I went to the grocery store to get some fruit and I picked up a package of those fucking cracker things you like just ‘cause you like them. And then I had to buy new sheets and I picked a color I thought you’d look good against. I don’t know why I’m doing shit like that. Fuck.” Brian looks away from Justin, lifting his arms off his shoulder and taking a step back. “I just thought you should know that it isn’t only about wanting to fuck you. That isn’t the only reason why I... like you.”

 

Justin swallows once and then once more, licking his lips nervously. “You like me?” He asks shyly. 

 

Nodding, Brian says, “Well, yeah.”

 

“I see...” Justin trails off. 

 

“Is there a problem?” Brian bites out. This is more than he’s ever done for any man before and Justin isn’t reacting the way he expects.

 

Justin’s eyes are huge, staring at Brian, waiting for... waiting for what, neither one of them know. Brian tries to ignore the way Justin’s body is shaking. It’s not too noticeable, actually. It’s so slight, that at first glance, Brian believes he imagines it. 

 

“I fucked up again, huh?” Brian asks nervously.

 

“No.” Brian has to lean forward to hear this. “I just... can’t do this.” Justin lifts his hand to his face and nervously tucks his hair behind his ears. He looks up at Brian with those huge blue eyes and smiles. 

 

“Justin...” Brian begins, but is stopped by Justin’s hand. 

 

“This...” Justin starts to explain and Brian waits as patiently as he can for Justin to continue. “This... this is very hard for me. You don’t understand.”

 

“No. You’re right. I don’t. ‘Cause I’ve seen you trick before. I’ve seen you fuck, Justin. It’s not like you _can’t_ do it. And you’ve run after me multiple times, demanding that I give you my attention and my respect and... my time. You’ve teased me on the dance floor, dancing seductively with other men until I want to rip my eyes out. You’ve licked my lips, pinched my nipples, and sucked my cock. You’ve... asked me to make decisions about us. Us. There’s never been an Us, ever, where I’m concerned. And here you come, out of nowhere, and demand that there be an Us. So, I try. God, I fucking try. So hard. I woo you and kiss you and... play nice with you. I act like a fucking pussy for you. Like, some love-sick lesbo. I give you everything you ask and then you... you suddenly... don’t want it? You’re fucking right I don’t understand.”

 

Justin is drowning in Brian’s words. “You’re right,” he says quickly. He opens his mouth to say something else, but someone pushes into him and he falls into Brian’s arms. He can feel Brian’s warm breath on his face, his strong hands around his body, and God, he’s never wanted anything else as much as he wants this--this man. 

 

“Come on,” Brian tells him, standing him up before leading him off the dance floor. Brian takes Justin’s slightly smaller hand in his own and walks them out of Babylon. They walk across the street and stop in front a lamp post. Justin’s face is half shrouded in darkness, so Brian pushes him up against the post. “I need you to explain to me what it is I don’t understand. ‘Cause I thought I had you all figured out, but the longer we seem to spend time together, the...” He pauses and his mouth drops open, as if he’s just figured something out. Something important. And he has. “The more... scared... you seem to get.”

 

Under the harsh glare of the streetlight, Brian can see Justin flush . “God,” Brian says, nodding his head almost excitedly. “That’s it. You’re scared.” He smacks his forehead lightly and then starts to laugh. 

 

Justin grows from embarrassed to angry. “Why’re you laughing at me?” He demands.

 

“And everyone thought it would be me. That _I_ would be the one to run away from getting to close to someone. No one would ever suspect poor, little Justin.”

 

“Shut up.” Justin demands.

 

“No. It’s true. Here I am, getting yelled at left and right when all the time it’s been you who’s scared shitless.”

 

“Shut up,” Justin repeats, a little louder. People passing by stop to listen for a moment.

 

“What? You think just ‘cause you’ve had some bad experiences in the past... you think that just ‘cause some weak little faggot used to hit you... that _I’m_ going to do the same?”

 

“Shut. Up.” Justin raises his voice. It cracks.

 

Brian shakes his head at Justin. “Oh. I get it perfectly now. It was all fun and games until it became serious and then you have to pussy out, afraid to start your life again. Afraid of something you have no control over--your past.”

 

“What about you, Brian, huh?” Justin screams. He doesn’t mean to, but the shit Brian’s saying is hitting home. And it hurts. No one’s ever gotten on his case like this before. Everyone’s... well, offered him pity and understanding.

 

Brian stops dead. “What about me?” He grinds his teeth. “What the fuck do you think you know about me?”

 

“You... you’ve lived your life by these stupid rules about love and relationships when we all know it’s ‘cause you had a fucked up childhood. Let’s see you move past your demons like I’ve moved past mine. Huh? Lindsay told me that you didn’t want to be her sperm donor ‘cause you were too afraid you’d end up like your old man. I don’t see how we’re much different in that respect. So, say all you want about me hiding from my past, ‘cause you’re doing it too!” 

 

Brian gets in Justin’s face. “You don’t know shit.”

 

Justin returns the fury. “And you don’t know shit either.” 

 

They’re glaring at each other, burning holes into their skulls. Justin’s eyes narrow as Brian’s face become a mask of indifference. Both men are breathing hard, practically spitting with anger. 

 

Neither one knows who starts it, but suddenly, they’re in each other’s arms, biting at each other’s lips, clawing at each other’s backs. Brian pushes against Justin, who’s head hits the post, hard. He lets one of his hands wander to the back of Justin’s head, checking for a bump, but ends up winding his fingers around Justin's hair, pulling his head back. Justin’s gasping for breath, his lips are swollen and his tongue is handing out like a dog’s. Brian pulls Justin’s hair a bit harder, yanking Justin’s head back again before swooping down and swallowing Justin’s tongue in his mouth.

 

There’s a small alley near the post and Justin grabs Brian’s shirt and drags him into the darkness. The light from the street lamp casts odd shaped shadows on the dumpster and crates, but neither men notice this. Justin practically rips Brian’s shirt off his shoulders, leaning up on his toes to lick, suck, and bite the naked skin. His hands tremble at the buttons of Brian’s pants.

 

Brian’s groaning, letting Justin tear away at his clothes. Justin’s hands rest on his own, tugging at them, so Brian places them on his hips.

 

“No,” Justin moans, pulling at his hands some more.

 

Confused, Brian looks down into Justin’s eyes and watches as he pulls down his own pants and places Brian’s hands on his ass cheeks. “There,” he sighs.

 

Brian doesn’t move. Justin lets his back touch the disgusting wall behind him. He pushes against Brian’s hands and then, panting, grips the back of Brian’s neck and licks from the base of his neck to the bottom of his lips. Brian feels the warmth in his hands, the perfect skin melting into his fingers and he squeezes. Justin breaths an unbelievable sigh, nipping at Brian’s lips playfully. 

 

“More,” he whispers. 

 

Brian acquiesces to Justin’s demands. 

 

“More.” 

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Yes, there.”

 

“Oh, God.”

 

And finally, “Fuck me, Brian.”

 

Brian thinks he can come from just hearing the words. He brings his hand up to Justin’s mouth. “Suck,” he tells him, his breath catching as Justin’s tongue pulls his fingers into his mouth.

 

Brian probes and pushes and delves until his fingers are dry. He pulls out and Justin groans his disappointment. “Lube,” he says, searching clumsily in his pockets. 

 

Justin’s arching, his cock brushing against Brian’s. “Fuck me,” he repeats. “Brian. Now.” His hands tighten on Brian’s shoulders. “Like this. The only way.”

 

Brian leads him to a pile of crates. He spreads his shirt on top of one before laying Justin down, his back and head resting on the box. Brian pulls Justin’s legs around his waist. “Stay,” he tells him, pulling out a condom.

 

It’s better than Brian could ever have imagined it to be. It starts out slow--oh so fucking slow. With Justin gasping and crying and his cock growing limp. When Brian’s all the way in--all the fucking way in!--they simply stare at each other. Brian doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as sexy as Justin, spread out on the crate. So slutty, yet so... beautiful. Finally, Justin starts squeezing and pushing his readiness. 

 

Justin comes before Brian, calling his name and covering his eyes with his hands. His back lifts off the crate and he practically throws Brian off his body. Brian waits through his orgasm before gently moving his hips again. Justin gasps and cries out. It’s too much. Too soon after. But, suddenly, Brian stops and comes wordlessly. 

 

Brian falls on Justin, panting. They lay there, momentarily stunned as the edge of the crate digs into Justin’s thighs. But he doesn’t complain, even as Brian’s added weight almost makes him cry out from the shooting pain. 

 

Instead, Justin brings a shaking hand up to Brian’s head and pats it. The touch seems to bring Brian back from... wherever his mind has wandered to. He glances up at Justin, enthralled by the way his flushed skin begins to cool off. First his face and then his chest, his body once again returning to its normally pale state.

 

“Well?” Brian asks, cupping Justin’s face. Well, what? But Justin can hear the hidden questions.

 

_Now what?_

 

_Are you okay?_

 

_Did that feel good?_

 

_Am I forgiven?_

 

_Are you hurt?_

 

_Want to try again?_

 

And Justin smiles lazily. “Whoa,” he whispers, lifting his head to kiss Brian’s parted lips. 

 

Brian hovers over Justin and wonders how someone like Justin so easily invaded his life. Justin has major issues and Brian knows that fucking him hasn’t made them disappear, but he doesn’t mind. Because if this type of connection and heat and... absolutely splendid fucking is what he gets in consolation for all the drama, then Brian’ll stick to it. 

 

_No. Not consolation. That’s not the right word._

 

They dress slowly, Justin’s hands tremble as he buttons his pants. Worried, Brian asks, “Are you... okay?”

 

Justin nods quickly, but doesn’t meet Brian’s gaze. 

 

“Are you gonna disappear again for a couple days?” Brian presses. He stops dressing and sits on the crate nearest to Justin.

 

“What?” Justin’s voice is sharp. “No, of course not.”

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

Justin pulls on his shirt and walks over to Brian, nodding for him to scoot over. They sit side by side, their knees resting comfortably against each other. “I wasn’t trying to tease you,” Justin says quietly, taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lights one and hands it to Brian.

 

“I didn’t think you were. Teasing me, that is. You’re just seriously fucked up.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and grins wryly at Justin. “But then, so am I. So, I guess in a way we’re perfect for each other.”

 

Justin nudges Brian’s shoulder with his own. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that. They might... assume things.”

 

Shrugging, Brian nervously places his hand on top of Justin’s. “Let them. We’ve gotta keep things interesting in this fucked up town.”

 

Justin laughs and Brian can feel his body relax a little. “So... you wanna fuck again?” Brian asks, leaning back on the crate, smoking contentedly.

 

“Sure.” Justin curls up awkwardly beside him. “Maybe I can top this time.” He lazily paints a figure eight with his finger on Brian’s chest.

 

“Not in some dirty alley, you’re not.”

 

Justin stops drawing and smiles. “But that wasn’t a ‘no,’ right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Justin sits up slightly, grimacing as the crate bites into his elbow. “You’d... trust me enough to let me top you?”

 

Brian shrugs and takes a long hit of his cigarette. “Well, you trust me. It’s only fair.”

 

Leaning forward, Justin catches Brian’s lips in a messy kiss. “God, if you keep saying shit like that you’ll never get rid of me.”

 

“Good” is Brian’s simple reply. 

 

They lay together on the dirty crates in a filthy alley, breathing in the stale air, but really fucking happy. And neither one of them can remember being as content or... comfortable. For now, that’s all that matters.


End file.
